I Could Have Shagged All Night
by Predec2
Summary: Brian is forced to take dance lessons when he loses a bet. But does his luck change when he meets his beautiful, blond, dance instructor? B/J AU Romance. *NOW COMPLETE!*
1. The Bet

_DISCLAIMER: QAF and its characters are the sole property of Showtime and Cowlip Productions; no copyright infringement is intended_.

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_Prologue_

Brian pulled at the collar of his sleeveless black shirt, but it wasn't really constricting his neck. He felt his forehead breaking out in perspiration underneath the glare of the hot spotlights casting the dance studio in a bright, garish mockery of daylight, even though it was almost 7:00 p.m. and the sun had long ago crept below the horizon. At that moment, as he leaned back against the shadowed wall of the studio and tried to disappear from sight, he wished that he could be anywhere but here. Once more he tried to figure out how he had wound up in this god-awful dive in the first place, but deep down he knew he only had himself to blame…

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_Chapter One: The Bet_

_One Week Earlier – Liberty Diner_

"No fucking way!" Brian growled in protest over Emmett's fervent declaration; he leaned across the table to peer upside down at the prominent photo displayed at the top of the social pages. "The man doesn't have a gay bone in his body; trust me, I would know! You've been reading way too many of those rag papers again."

Emmett huffed in indignation. "Say what you want, Brian, but I'm telling you Drew Boyd is as gay as the day is long!"

Brian adamantly shook his head as he studied the engagement photo of the well-known football star and his blond fiancée. They had their arms around each other as they beamed into the camera above the notice announcing their upcoming wedding. "There's no way, Emmy Lou," he decided flatly without any hesitation. "If that man is gay, then I'm Twinkle Toes."

Emmett chewed on his straw as he eyed Brian intently. "Just how sure ARE you?" He pressed as he idly twisted the straw between his teeth, his eyes set with determination and perhaps something else as an inspiration hit him.

Brian eyed him cautiously; the man almost sounded downright cocky. A flicker of indecision flitted across his features before he tamped it down as being ridiculous. He snatched the straw out of Emmett's mouth, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the saliva-coated surface as he threw it down on the booth's tabletop. "Oh, I'm REAL sure. What do you have in mind?"

Emmett thought about it for a little while until he decided to go for it. "Well, if I lose, I'll buy you breakfast here at the diner one day a week for the next year," Emmett promised him.

"Oooh, what a treat," Brian snickered; that wasn't nearly good enough. "You'll have to do better than that." He pondered all the possibilities until he decided. "If you lose, you have to cater all of Kinnetik's events for the next year – for _free_. Including everything – the food AND the booze; and I mean good, quality stuff, not the cheap shit."

To Brian's surprise, Emmett actually _smiled_ at him in response instead of immediately protesting like he thought he would; that caused a certain amount of disquiet to register in the pit of his stomach, but he did his best to tamp it down and ignore it.

"Okay…Done," Emmett replied abruptly as he took a stab of his banana pancakes and swirled it around in a pool of maple syrup on his plate. Turning his gaze back toward Brian, he informed him, "And if _YOU_ lose, you have to sign up to participate in the Pittsburgh GALA's dance to benefit Vic's House."

Brian's mouth hung open. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Emmett was about to explain with pleasure when they were interrupted.

"Hey, Guys," Ted greeted them as Emmett automatically made room for him on his side of the booth. "How's it going?"

Emmett smiled, a decided gleam in his eye. "Oh, Brian and I were just making a little bet here, and deciding on the terms."

Ted looked up as Kiki approached their booth; she had purchased the diner from the previous owner six months ago and through diligent changes and improvements to the place, it had become quite the stopping point for a lot of Pittsburgh's gay elite. She prided herself on advertising any pertinent events occurring in the gay community, including the one that was presently the source of Brian and Emmett's debate.

"What'll be, Mr. Accountant?" she greeted Ted with a smile, her pencil and pad poised at the ready. She had a soft spot for the affable, self-effacing man who was always so pleasant and polite with her.

"Make it the usual, Kiki," he responded with a smile of his own as she nodded and walked away; Ted had been in the diner so many times by now that she knew his order of a small coffee, Western Omelet, and whole wheat toast with strawberry jelly by heart.

"So what's going on?" Ted asked curiously, noticing that Em had the morning paper opened up on top of the booth's table.

Em smiled. "Oh, Brian and I were having a friendly little discussion about which way our little football league's star tight ass…Uh, _quarterback_ was swinging in light of his engagement to his supposed true love." He pushed the page in question over toward Ted's side of the table so he could get a better look at it. "Seems Drewsie here has announced his engagement, but I think it's all a big farce. Brian happens to disagree."

Brian snorted as he took a quick sip of his coffee and put it down on the table. "Your radar needs readjusting, Emmy Lou."

Ted appeared to look uncomfortable as he stammered, "Uh… Em, is THIS what the two of you are betting on? Whether or not Drew Boyd is gay or straight? Because if it is…"

"… If it is, Honeycutt here is about to take a big dive financially," Brian finished for him before Ted had a chance to explain further. "He's about to cater every business event for Kinnetik for the next year, so get ready to start recording additional profits for me."

Ted turned to look over at Emmett. "But…"

"…But I happen to know that he's wrong," Emmett insisted as he looked down at the handsome, smiling face of his secret lover staring back at him. Only Ted knew that fact at the moment, though; Brian had no idea or even realized that he KNEW the famous, sexy, football star, which made the bet all the more delicious. It was rare when he could triumph over Brian Kinney, so he was going to enjoy it to the fullest. "That man is hiding his true orientation, and one day he'll be singing like the queen that he is." Silently he relished that day when his lover would come out of the closet and tell the world what he already knew, but for now he could definitely use it to his advantage. That is, if Teddy didn't spill the beans first.

Brian chuckled low in this throat. "You really should go to the repair shop and have your gaydar tuned up," he told him. "I tell you there's no fucking way."

"Emmett…" Ted tried to interject some sense into his friend before it was too late.

"Oh, you want to know the terms of our bet?" Emmett interrupted Ted again with a twinkle in his eye. "Okay. As Brian already mentioned, if I lose the bet I have to cater all of his company's events for free for the next year. If HE loses, though, he has to participate in the '_Dancing Queens Night_" to benefit the Vic Grassi House. Just seeing HIM shaking his booty should bring in thousands, no doubt, even though most of his admirers normally get free admittance, so I'm sure that despite the committee's somewhat rocky opinion of Brian here, they will be dancing in the aisles when he signs up."

Brian chortled; silently appalled at the idea of participating in such a disdainful event for an even MORE abhorrent organization but forcing himself to remember that it would never happen in a million years. His intuition had never ceased to fail him before, and it wouldn't now, either, even though he definitely wouldn't mind taking possession of _that_ man's balls. What a shame the man wasn't an eligible receiver, because he would have liked nothing better than to see that glorious backside in motion in his bed. Or perhaps the backroom at Babylon would be better; that way, he could be the envy of everyone there, and word would spread through Liberty Avenue faster than cocaine in a twink's bloodstream. As he looked over at Ted, however, he realized that perhaps it was best that he not mention that reference to a spaced-out twink aloud after the Blake fiasco.

He smirked over at his adversary. "In your dreams, Honeycutt; that's the _only_ way it's gonna happen."

Emmett shrugged as Ted stared at him in horror; he knew there were going to be repercussions to what his friend was doing. He might come out victorious somehow, but he should know by now that you didn't cross Brian Kinney and not be severely punished for it. "Emmett, uh, how long are you two going to participate in this bet?" Emmett had already told him that Boyd didn't want anyone to know that he was gay; was he out of his mind, then? There was no way that Drew Boyd would admit to being gay, now or anytime in the near future. Emmett was just getting his feet wet with his catering business; once Brian won the bet, with the man's expensive, caviar tastes his friend would promptly wind up in the poor house before the year was out.

"Oh, a month should about do it," Emmett replied mysteriously with a smile as he stabbed another bite of his pancakes and crammed it into his mouth. Only he knew that he had finally convinced his boyfriend to reveal his sexual orientation at the next press conference coming up before his game on Sunday.

"Well, you keep dreaming, Honeycutt," Brian told him as he slid across the vinyl seat and rose to his feet, placing a ten-dollar bill down on the table. "In the meantime, Theodore, why don't you give Emmett here a copy of our last catering menu for the Hendricks account? That way, he can start grocery shopping. Later, boys," he called out as he turned to go.

Ted could barely control himself as he waited for Brian to leave; as soon as the bell sounded over the door, he turned to look at his friend incredulously. "Have you lost your fucking mind?"

Emmett looked down at the floor and then over his shoulder before he replied flippantly, "I don't think so. Why?"

Ted's eyes flashed in irritation. "You _know_ why! When Brian finds out that the bet was rigged, you're going to be in some serious trouble!"

Emmett batted his eyes at his friend as he responded coyly, "And how is he going to find out? You're not going to tell him… Are you?"

Ted sighed in exasperation. "No, thanks, I happen to like breathing – and my job."

Emmett shrugged. "Then he's never going to know."

"Uh, huh; just like he'll never find out that you and Drew Boyd have been seeing each other on the sly? Just how are you going to keep that from him? Huh?" They both looked up and paused as Kiki returned with Ted's breakfast; Ted nodded his thanks and waited until she walked out of earshot before he continued. "You're really walking a dangerous line here, Em; if he finds out he is going to be sooo pissed. You know he will NOT take too kindly to being a replacement for Rudolph Nureyev."

"Well, I'll just have to make sure he doesn't know, then; at least until I can come up with a good backup plan. And besides, it won't be ballet; just ballroom dances. If anyone should know his way around a ballroom, it should be Brian." He grinned at Ted over his unintentional double entendre, but his friend didn't seem very amused by it.

"Just remember – if he tries to take one of YOUR balls off afterward, I knew nothing about it."

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_Thank you to Boriqua522 for being my beta.:) This story is complete (for a change - ha!), and I will be posting a chapter probably each day. Hope you enjoy it. BTW - the next update to "Tame the Wild Stallion" should be up in the next few days as well._


	2. Sizing Up the Dancers & the Competition

Now as Brian stood there at the dance studio with the other contestants for the Gay and Lesbian Center's dance benefit, he felt extremely out of place next to the wallflowers standing near him. He glanced at his 'competition,' finding most of them sadly lacking in any social - and no doubt, dancing - skills. Closest to him was a burly, buzz-cut bear, dressed in black leather pants, vest, and matching leather cap; silver chains hung around his neck like heavy tinsel on a tree. Another participant, obviously a trannie by the looks of her, was tall and dark-haired, dressed in a red mini-skirt that matched her lipstick, a black halter top, and high stiletto heels. He wondered how the 'woman' would manage to move at all with shoes that needed a step ladder to slip into.

Another contestant appeared to be in fairly good health, but had to be at least 60 years old from the looks of his salt-and-pepper hair and the wrinkles on his face. The fifth person, a tall blonde woman who appeared to be in her 30's and wore a tight pair of jeans and a sleeveless, braless navy-blue tank top with a black leather jacket, winked at him as he looked over at her before she smacked her gum in his face.

Well, he figured as he sighed inwardly, if he DID have to take dance lessons in order to compete in this abysmal benefit, at least he would have the rest of the losers beat hands down. Even if he _wasn't_ the best dancer, anyone with half a brain would vote for him to win strictly based on who he was. Now he just had to get through the next four weeks or so of dance lessons and then the night of the actual benefit, and he could put this bad dream behind him. Of course, if he hadn't prided himself on never going back on a promise, he would have never found himself in this fucked-up situation to begin with; but now that he was, it was up to him to come out on top just like he always did.

He was feeling quite sure of himself when the front door opened, and in walked someone he had never expected to see competing: Drew Boyd. The man oozed sex appeal as he practically strutted in with a smirk and a tight pair of jeans, matched with a shirt that appeared to be molded to his wide, muscled chest. As Brian peered over at the incredibly handsome athlete, he couldn't imagine how he had gotten his impression of the guy so wrong; until Boyd had unexpectedly divulged his sexuality in front of the camera during that press conference a few days ago, he would have sworn the guy was straight as an arrow. Now, however, he knew how wrong he had been, and everyone in the place was giving Boyd a virtual eye fuck as he swaggered toward the front desk to register. Brian, too, couldn't help admiring the man's physique: a broad chest, trim waist, tight ass, and powerful, muscular legs. He had heard enough about celebrity dance shows to know that oftentimes athletes made the best dancers and the quickest studies; for a brief moment, then, he allowed himself to ponder whether or not he just might have met his match, but it was just a fleeting concern before his confidence ramped back up. No, he had this fucking event in the bag; he could feel it.

He glanced over to the rear door leading to the back of the studio as it opened and a woman wearing a gaudy wig, bright purple spandex tights, and a sparkly, silver sequined top emerged. She had a silver pea whistle hanging around her neck with a lavender-colored ribbon and the front of her shirt was emblazoned with the scripted words: _Dancers do it on tiptoes. _

"Everybody in the right place?" the woman bellowed as she cracked her gum loudly and walked up to the group of potential Fred Astaires. "This is Debbie's Dance Studio, and I'm Debbie," she said flatly. "If you're looking for the baths, you made a wrong turn about a block back," she quipped as she guffawed at her own joke. Brian watched as the red-haired, flashy woman walked up to each contestant in turn and eyed them studiously as if she were picking out a dog at the animal shelter. "Honey, you don't have a pacemaker, do you?" she asked the first man who appeared to be in his 60's. The man shook his head no in confusion as she nodded. "Well, by the time you get done here, you're gonna need one." The man frowned as she continued to the next person, trying to figure out if she was serious or not.

"And you are?" Debbie asked the tall trannie who was next in line.

The woman looked at her unflinchingly, her blue eyes framed by the largest false eyelashes Brian had ever seen; they seemed to be caked with black mascara, almost giving her the appearance of raccoon eyes. "The name's Marilyn, Sweetie," she stated as she proceeded to use an emery board to file down the red-lacquered pinkie fingernail on her right hand. "And you're going to do very well here."

Debbie stared up at the contender curiously as her eyebrows shot up. "I will, huh? Good to know," she decided with a skeptical smile. "I'll keep that in mind." This woman couldn't possibly know that she was concerned with the profitability of the studio, having only owned it for a brief period of time. She had been quite the dancer herself a long time ago, but time and gravity hadn't been kind to her since then. Once she had possessed a lithe, slender frame and could keep up with the best of them. Now, though, the only spins she performed occurred when she dried off her tossed salad; her days of cutting a rug were long over.

She had decided to put her vast experience in dance as well as retail store operations to good use, however, when she moved back home from Florida to relocate closer to her son, Michael, and found the previous owner of the studio getting ready to retire. She had only owned the studio for six months now, however, and even with the previous owner's client list, she was still struggling to make a profit. She was hoping, then, that the cut she received from the Gay and Lesbian Center to provide dance lessons for their participants would help her get the studio on more solid ground and generate some much-needed publicity. Plus, she had a much more personal reason for agreeing to help out with the benefit, one that she did not feel like divulging to them, at least not for the time being.

Like a police sergeant in a line-up, she sized up the next contestant; it was obvious to her that this must be the famous Drew Boyd, one of the most eagerly awaited participants. The man was about 6' tall with not an ounce of fat on him, from his wide shoulders down to his trim waist and muscular thighs clad in tight blue jeans. Debbie didn't miss how attractively the closely-cropped, dark-blond hair framed his green eyes and strong chin; after all, she might be eligible for an AARP membership, but she wasn't dead, either. Cracking her gum loudly, she looked into the young man's eyes and smiled. "I know who YOU are. You ever danced any, Honey?" she inquired curiously.

Drew smiled down at her. "Only when I'm trying to avoid a tight end, ma'am," he replied politely, one side of his mouth quirked up in amusement.

When Emmett had first broached the subject of him coming out, the idea had scared the shit out of Drew; thoughts of being branded some sissy fag football player had swirled through his head, not to mention all the possible financial ramifications regarding several lucrative endorsement contracts he had. But to his surprise, once he had admitted it on live TV and the initial shock had worn off he had been having the time of his life! He had felt terrible about embarrassing his fiancée, but once that hurdle had been overcome it had felt so liberating to not have to constantly look over his shoulder, wondering if tonight would be the night that someone would somehow be able to tell that he preferred cock to pussy.

Debbie guffawed at the double entendre. "Well, I'm surprised that someone like you would try to avoid the sack," she quipped. She studied his handsome features and incredible physique. "I think you'll do just fine with the ladies...AND the men," she told him with a smile as she moved onto the fourth participant, a tall, black woman wearing a platinum wig and a gold lamé evening gown with matching stilettos and rhinestone, chandelier earrings.

"Well, Cher is alive and well," Debbie quipped as she gave her a look from head to toe.

"You know it, Sugar," the woman replied with a smirk as she played with a long, gold chain around her neck. "The name's Delicious."

"Uh, huh," Debbie replied. "You live close by, Delish?"

"Sure do; about a block away," she said, wondering why this woman wanted to know that.

"Well, I hate to tell you this, _Delish_, but you're going to be tripping on that gown in addition to your own two feet in that outfit; go home and find something else to wear. My liability insurance is already out the fucking roof as it is. Come back wearing something closer to what Sonny would wear and not Cher, and I'll get you matched up with an instructor."

The woman huffed out a protest, but was promptly interrupted.

"If you want to compete, Sweet Cheeks, you'll do as I say. Otherwise, there's the door; don't let it hit you in your shiny ass on the way out."

Delicious harrumphed in insult, but nevertheless turned around and headed toward the entrance, muttering under her breath the entire way as she opened the door and the bell overhead signaled her exit.

Debbie shook her head in aggravation before she turned to size up the next participant - a long-haired, tall, slender, ballerina-built blond who appeared to be in her early 30's wearing plastered-on, worn jeans, a sleeveless, navy-blue tee shirt and a black leather jacket with black boots. Her attire seemed to scream out that she would be more comfortable on a Harley than in a dance studio. "And you are?"

The woman's gum popping threatened to rival Debbie's as she cracked her gum before responding, "Leda. And I'm only here because of the money...and to pick up chicks," she added with a wink as she popped a big one.

"Well, crude but honest," Debbie retorted. "Refreshing. Just don't count on hawking the trophy afterward if you win; it ain't made out of precious metals," she quipped. "Lucky for you they don't deduct points for lack of charm."

Finally, she reached the last candidate in the group, who was standing a few feet apart from the rest. This one was tall and lanky, perhaps a bit underweight with auburn hair, alert hazel eyes; and while casually attired, he was dressed in expensive designer clothes. He met her gaze evenly and appeared to even smirk as she assessed him. His entire aura projected an air of _I'm hot, I'm the best, and I know it_.

Brian watched as the flashy, curly-haired redhead walked up to him; he arched one eyebrow in challenge as she eyed him up and down carefully. He found himself fidgeting just a little under her scrutiny as she asked, "And you? You're a tall one. You have a name?" She glanced over at the other contestants curiously as she thought she heard a distinctive snicker erupt from them and Brian snorted in response, almost insulted.

"What? What did I say?" Debbie wondered aloud. "Are you some kind of mole planted in the group?" she accused him, looking around to see if there was some sort of hidden camera around.

"You don't know the great, illustrious Brian Kinney?" the bear asked her from a few feet away. "I would have thought his reputation would have preceded him."

Brian glared over at him as Debbie raised an eyebrow in interest; she had certainly _heard_ of this man, which begged the next question she asked. "Yeah, I've heard of you, Kinney. So what ARE you doing here?"

Brian smirked at her as he remarked, "This is a dance studio; I'm here to learn to _dance._" There was a distinctive 'duh' sound to his voice

Debbie nodded as she narrowed her eyes to stare into his unflinchingly. "Well, why did you sign up for this? Something tells me you're not desperate and dateless. You having to learn some new dance steps for Babylon?" she cracked. She couldn't help noticing that although this man could be considered a little on the skinny side, his tousled, devil-may-care attitude and dangerous, good looks exuded sex appeal from every pore, so she could certainly understand his allure.

Brian snorted. "Hardly." He looked around to notice everyone else's eyes fixed on him curiously, including Boyd's. He wasn't about to divulge that he was here because he had lost a bet to Emmett about _him_. But what _would_ be a good reason, then? "I'm here for business," he finally stated with a shrug.

Debbie lifted an eyebrow. "Well, it better not be funny business," she warned him. "It takes two to tango, but I have a strict no fraternization policy with the dancers, you got it?"

Brian had to chuckle at that statement; if the dancers looked anything like his competitors - Boyd excepted, he supposed - there wasn't much to worry about. "I'll try to control myself," he told her sarcastically.

Debbie eyed him skeptically before she finally nodded. Standing in front of the ragtag group, she cracked her gum once more before she placed her hands on her hips and stared them down. "Just to make sure you all heard what I said, this is a business establishment. I'm here to teach all of you to dance - or at least attempt to provide a reasonable facsimile of it - before the Gay & Lesbian benefit in a month. You will all be matched up with a dance partner based on who I feel would work best with you. You will be responsible for learning two different dances before the night of the benefit and you will be expected to practice several hours a day here at the studio; that is, unless you want to look like a left-footed loser in front of the audience and the other contestants." She examined each of them once more, deciding in her mind who to pair off with whom before she commanded, "Take a load off and I'll show you how the real pros do it."

Brian rolled his eyes in barely-restrained patience as each of the wannabe dancers sat down on one of the hard, blue plastic chairs and watched as Debbie walked over to an old-fashioned jukebox set up in the corner. "Watch and learn," she instructed as she punched in a two-digit combination. Brian covered his ears as she brought the whistle up to her lips and blew on it; the sound, a grating sort of screech, was enough to wake the living dead as she shouted toward the back door, "Time to get the show on the road!"

A song began to play - some nondescript, pulsating-type tune that Brian recognized but did not know the name of - as the door opened and a group of three men and three women appeared in the room. They were all dressed neatly but casually in jeans and polo shirts with the name of the dance studio in small block letters across the left sleeve as they walked closer to the middle of the polished, wooden floor and paired off - two men, two women, and a mixed couple - before they began to perform a quick-step. Their footwork was precise and rapid as they glided around the room, each contestant's attention focused raptly on their exact and detailed footwork.

While each contestant admired the athleticism and grace of each dancer, Brian's eyes were fixated on one pair in particular: a dark-haired female presently dancing with a slender blond that had the most amazing ass he had ever laid eyes on. Fuck, was there ever a more delicious sight? The pants he was wearing were stretched smoothly across the rounded globes as he moved, exposing its perfection to his scrutiny as the young man led the girl around the room in perfect time to the music, his hips swaying provocatively as his feet stepped in precisely choreographed increments. The man was positively captivating; fuck, all he knew at that moment was that he had to have him! Right then and there he decided that being on the losing side of Emmett's bet wasn't half bad.

His mouth hung open as he continued to openly stare at the young dancer, uncaring at the moment of how pathetic it might look; he decided that both the front and the rear view were equally alluring. Finally, the music ended and the performers stopped to stand in a single-file line on either side of Debbie as the contestants applauded in appreciation, each one silently pairing themselves up with one of the dancers they preferred to work with.

Brian locked eyes on the gorgeous blond, who he discovered had the most amazing, sky-blue eyes as the younger man lifted his gaze to latch onto his face; he thought he saw the slightest tint of pink sweep across the pale cheeks before the man quickly averted his eyes away. That didn't prevent Brian, however, from continuing to undress him with his eyes, wondering if that grace and strength would transfer into the bedroom as he practically salivated at the notion.

Debbie eyed each one of them carefully, her eyes darting between them and the dancers for several seconds before she nodded her head in decision. "You," she said, pointing over to the older man in his 60's. "Come and meet Billy." She motioned for one of the male dancers - who was tall, dark-haired, and slender and appeared to be in his 30's - to walk closer to her. "Billy, meet...?"

The contestant's mouth fell open in admiration as he stammered out, "Uh...Oh, yeah! Martin; my name's Martin."

Debbie smirked at the look on the older man's face as Billy nodded with a smile and led his protégé toward the back of the room where the private rehearsal rooms were located. The same procedure was followed for the next three contestants, until only Brian, Drew, and the two other male instructors remained.

Debbie bit down on the fingernail of her right thumb as she eyed both handsome men who were left and then peered over at the two remaining dancers, trying to decide how to pair them up. She hadn't missed the almost predatory gleam that had appeared in the brunet's eyes when he had first laid eyes on her youngest dancer. She knew that he could take of himself - Justin was a lot feistier and independent than he appeared - and she had been trying to get him to enjoy himself a little more lately; the young man was far too serious for his own good - but was it a wise idea to pair him up with someone by the likes of Brian Kinney, who apparently fucked anything that moved? On the other hand, it might prove interesting to see the man meet his match. She smiled; yes, this might work out perfectly.

Coming to a decision, then, she put her plan into motion. "You over there - the tight end," she called out as she crooked a finger at Drew. "Come and meet the man you'll be molded to at the hip for the next month." Drew ambled over to her side with a lazy sort of smile on his face as she turned and told the brunet-haired dancer, who appeared star struck by the slightly dazed looked on his face, "Kenny, this is Drew Boyd; Drew, Kenny Meyers." Debbie shook her head slightly as Kenny stood there like a statue while he stared over at the extremely attractive athlete. The two finally shook hands before an awed Kenny placed his hand lightly on Drew's back and led him over to the door leading to the rear practice rooms, finding his voice as he began to babble on and on about what a big football fan he was.

Brian tried his best to appear nonchalant, but inside he was doing somersaults over his luck. He took his time walking over to Debbie and his prey as she motioned for him to approach. He couldn't help raking his eyes slowly up and down in appreciation, however, as he finally got a chance to study the blond more closely. He decided he was even more sumptuous up close than from a few feet away; he had the most amazingly flawless skin, golden, silky-looking hair that fell over his startling blue eyes, and a strong jawline. He was surprised to see the other man peering back at him unflinchingly; normally he would receive more of a 'deer-in-the-headlights' look from young twinks such as this one.

"Brian Kinney, this is Justin Taylor; he's going to be your partner in the dance contest - if you promise to play nice," she warned him unexpectedly as Brian's brows rose in amusement.

"Oh, I can play nice, all right, or naughty - whatever you want," he assured her with a smirk as he continued to stare over at Justin, who merely cocked an eyebrow back at him in return instead of rising to the bait. He extended his hand and held it out between them; Justin seemed to hesitate for just a moment before his childhood breeding took over and he clasped it firmly.

Brian's eyes widened slightly at the sensation the simple gesture evoked, at once amazed as well as just a bit flustered by it. He had never had that sort of reaction just by shaking someone's hand, but it felt so warm and soft in his grasp and seemed to fit perfectly in his palm.

At last the other man spoke as Justin replied politely, "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Kinney."

Brian's grin widened; _fuck, even the voice was smooth as glass_! "My pleasure," he replied huskily as he openly stared back at his newly-appointed dancing partner. "And call me Brian." _If I have my way, you'll be screaming out that name in bed soon_, too, he couldn't help thinking as Justin finally reacted a little more predictably as a slight, pink blush appeared on his cheeks again. He deliberately held onto Justin's hand a little longer than he needed to just to establish his dominance, until at last he heard Debbie loudly clear her throat to get his attention. Not fazed in the slightest, however, he merely shrugged as she glared over at him with her lips pursed tightly together in aggravation.

She briefly wondered if she had made a mistake pairing this rather arrogant man up with Justin as the man whose reputation had preceded him eyed her back with a smirk on his face, but she knew some things about Justin that he didn't; he might _think _he had the upper hand, but he was about to find out differently. "Sunshine, if you'll take Brian here in the back and get started with his lessons, I have to run to the bank for a little while. Tell everyone to order whatever they want for lunch; it's on me today."

Brian snorted at the nickname. _Sunshine? Sounds like the name of a Girl Scout troop member._

Justin glared over at him in reaction, almost daring him to say something about it before he nodded with a slight smile at Debbie as she headed toward the exit door. Peering over curtly at his new charge, he told him, "If you'll come with me, Mr. Kinney, we can get started on your lessons."

"I'll be _glad_ to come with you, _Sunshine,_" Brian deadpanned as he leered over at him; Justin rolled his eyes, ignoring Brian's attempt at humor as he turned and started heading toward the private practice rooms in the rear of the building, feeling the heat of Brian's eyes trained on his ass as he walked in front of him. He forced himself not to think about that, though, telling himself to stay focused, although something told him that would be easier said than done. It wouldn't be the first time he had had a flirt or a leech to deal with, though; in fact, he was frequently hit upon whenever he gave lessons to the queers that tended to visit the studio. It was a part of combat duty, which was the way he referred to it whenever he had to fend off an overzealous admirer. If he could successfully repel THEM, then he could certainly do the same with this overly-confident man...couldn't he?


	3. The First Lesson

_The boys start to get to know each other better (wink, wink)._

* * *

Opening up the back door, Justin turned to the left and headed down a familiar, narrow hallway that displayed various dancers in classical poses on the otherwise nondescript walls. Only he and Debbie knew that the sketches and paintings had been done by him. His number one passion, his first love, had always been and would always be art. But until he could scrounge up enough money to afford tuition at the Pittsburgh Institute of Fine Arts - his favorite school - he was forced to fall back on his dancing skills and save his money for the day when he could follow through with his dreams.

Brian noticed several doors on the right-hand side of the passageway as Justin led him down the hall; each one had a brass numeral on it that resembled a hotel room door as music and voices drifted out of the rooms, signifying the other contestants were beginning to learn their dance steps for the two performances they would be expected to do for the benefit - one a slow dance number, the other one a quicker style.

As he continued to admire the view in front of him as Justin gracefully swayed from side to side, Brian wondered just what sort of 'dance' he and Justin could engage in. He smirked at that thought, knowing this was NOT the venue he had in mind for one particular 'dance.' But being alone with this beautiful young man in a closed room didn't sound half-bad, either; it would definitely be a start, anyway.

Justin headed toward the last door on the right, wondering how he had lucked out with having the very last room - and being paired up with this man walking along right behind him. He didn't know at the moment whether to kiss Debbie or slap her for her decision, but he was confident he could handle it; he had before. He was being paid to teach someone inexperienced to dance, just like he had numerous times before, and that was what he would do...No matter HOW damn gorgeous and distracting Kinney might be.

Justin had found over the course of his experience here at the studio that some people were natural-born dancers, while others had the proverbial two left feet; he wondered which category this handsome man would fall into. He had learned long ago that just because someone was good looking, it didn't mean they could dance. As much as he continued to try and not show how he was feeling, just the thought of holding this man in his arms - or vice versa - as they danced made his pulse quicken in reaction.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out through his nose to relax and calm himself, he arrived at Studio #8 and turned the knob to enter; he could almost feel the heat of Brian Kinney's body behind him as he went inside, purposely not looking back at the other man. Something told him this guy would do his best to unnerve him, and he was determined not to let him succeed.

Brian grinned as the blond walked inside and seemingly ignored his attempt to rattle him; he _liked_ a challenge, and something told him this one might put up a fight. He took a moment to look at his surroundings as Justin walked over to a bookshelf lined with rows of CDs; a portable CD player sat on top of the piece of furniture.

He was a little surprised by how spacious the practice room was, but he had lived in the Pitts all his life and knew that the dance studio building had been a former abandoned grocery store that had been converted into its present use about 15 years ago. The room he and Justin were in was surrounded on three sides by mirrored walls, obviously so the dancers could constantly check their footwork and posture. There were also four metal chairs and a water cooler near the bookshelves, with a back door at the far corner that had to lead directly out to the rear parking lot. He grinned over at the mirrors, admiring his appearance while at the same time admiring someone else. Unexpectedly, Justin turned around and their eyes met in one of the mirrors as he blushed profusely in realization; just as quickly, however, Brian watched him avert his eyes and clear his throat; an obvious tactic to try and diffuse the tension. _If you think it's tense NOW, ballet boy, wait until I get done with you_, he couldn't help thinking with a grin.

Justin inhaled a deep breath before he turned back around to peer over at his 'protégé.' The man was standing there in a sleeveless, black wifebeater that showed off his toned arms to perfection, along with his flat chest; the denim jeans were so perfectly molded onto him they could have been custom made, and accentuated his long, lean legs, not to mention what appeared to be a rather large-size bulge in his crotch. _Idiot!_ He silently berated himself as he noticed Brian smirking at him in realization. He cleared his throat again. "Why don't we get started?" he asked politely as he walked back over to him.

Brian stared at him intently until Justin had to blink; he found the lush, golden eyelashes mesmerizing in addition to the azure-colored eyes; they were the perfect complement to his dance instructor's paler-colored skin. "Sound goods to me," he remarked as one corner of his mouth lifted in amusement over the other man's seeming discomfiture. "Where do you want me?" He asked as he held his hands out to his sides in entreaty and openly leered at him.

_How about down the block where it's safer? _Justin mused as he said aloud instead, "Well, we'll practice the faster dance steps first; that is normally harder to learn. It's best if you just follow my steps at first so you can watch how I do it."

Brian pursed his lips together for a moment. Watching him would be a good start, he decided. "Okay - I think I can handle that."

Justin nodded as he walked over to the far, mirrored wall.

"Where's the music?" Brian asked.

"That comes later," Justin told him. "You'll be learning it first by counting off steps; it's easier."

Brian crossed his arms over his chest and nodded as Justin faced the far wall. He looked over at Brian's reflection, feeling the heat of his stare on him as he began to explain what was involved with the quick step, the dance that would be featured as their faster-tempo routine. "Watch me and then I'll have you try it, okay? It's one slow slide to the left, then two quick steps to the front and back."

Brian nodded as Justin began to step to the side slowly, then forward and back more quickly. He began to count off as he continued the steps until he had gotten to eight, and then repeated it a couple of times as Brian watched him; he wasn't sure if he was really studying his feet or something else, though.

"You think you can handle that?" Justin asked as he glanced over at Brian; he couldn't tell by the expression on his face what he was thinking, and it made him just a bit uncomfortable. Despite his earlier vow not to let this sexy-looking man get the best of him, he could tell he was beginning to waver under the man's scrutiny.

Brian grinned. "Oh, I can handle it, all right," he said confidently as he walked up and suddenly squeezed Justin around the sides; Justin immediately bent over in a fit of laughter over the ticklish sensation, and Brian's breath caught in his throat at the smile that broke out on the other man's face. It was the most glorious smile he had ever seen, and all of a sudden he realized why the owner must call this man 'Sunshine,' because his smile seemed to have brightened up the room tenfold.

"Stop it!" Justin replied, half-laughing and half-annoyed. "We have a lot of work to do, Mr. Kinney!"

"Call me Brian," he demanded as he continued to tickle him. "Say it!" He found that he had rather _liked_ the way this man had said his name before, and he wanted to hear him say it again - and again - and again...

"Okay, okay!" Justin retorted in between fits of laughter. "BRIAN! Brian...Fucking asshole..._Kinney_!"

Brian grinned as he finally let go of him in triumph; that wasn't quite what he had had in mind, but it was a start. And he had to hand it to this kid; he had balls. Nice-sized ones, too, if he was any judge of it.

Justin breathed in and out rapidly in an attempt to catch his breath. He finally blew out one, deep breath before he asked, "NOW are you ready to get down to work for a change? We only have a month, you know."

"I have this in the bag," Brian assured him with a smirk.

Justin eyed him warily. "Oh? And how do you come to THAT conclusion? You haven't even taken a step yet."

Brian shrugged. "Look at me," he told him simply as he held his hands palm up.

Justin rolled his eyes. "Yeah...So?"

Brian huffed in disbelief. "So...I'm hot. When it comes to fags, that's all they care about - that and a big cock. Want to see for yourself?" he asked as he reached down to begin unzipping his tight jeans.

"No, no," Justin told him hastily, his eyes widening in alarm as one side of Brian's mouth lifted in amusement. _Shit_. If Brian did that, they really _wouldn't_ get any work done. He was already beginning to fantasize about just that issue, so that was the LAST thing he needed. He sighed. This was going to be a very long month, to say the least. "Let's just get started, okay? You will need to stay focused and disciplined if you're going to learn both of these dances. Despite what you think, Brian, your footwork and posture are going to be more important to the judges than your looks."

Brian frowned; he thought it was going to be more of a popularity contest, and the crowd would determine the winner; in that case, the results would be a no-brainer. "What do you mean, _judges?" _

Justin placed his hands on his hips. "You know, people who give you ratings on how well you do?"

Brian bristled. "I know what the fuck a judge is!" he growled.

"Well, there's going to be three of them who will rate our performances."

"You mean on the dance floor?" Brian asked, his tongue stuck firmly in cheek. He was enjoying rattling this little blond spitfire immensely.

Justin rolled his eyes in flustered aggravation. "Of _course_ on the dance floor! Where ELSE would they be judging us..." He words trailed off as Brian lifted one elegantly-manicured eyebrow pointedly at him, causing his cheeks to redden in realization. "You...You're _impossible_!" Justin decided as he folded his arms over his chest and glared at him. "You haven't even taken one dance step yet, and you're already driving me fucking nuts!"

Brian merely grinned back at him, thoroughly enjoying himself. "Now, now, Teacher. Don't go getting your leotards in a knot; I'll behave - sort of." He walked closer to Justin as they both stood facing the mirror on the opposite wall; he couldn't help thinking how fucking hot they looked together. Even if they DID have to be judged by actual professionals, he still didn't think anyone could deny how spectacular they would be.

Justin sighed; maybe the reasonable approach would work. It was pretty much his last hope. "Just why did you sign up for this in the first place, Brian? I'm sure you don't need any help attracting guys."

Brian smirked. "No, I don't; that's obvious."

Justin shook his head; he should have expected that response. "O-kay," he slowly replied. "So why did you?"

Brian peered at Justin through the mirrored glass for a few moments as he decided how to answer that. He finally decided there wasn't any harm with the truth. He shrugged. "I lost a bet with a friend and this was the payback."

Justin raised his eyebrows curiously at that statement as he turned to look at his pupil. "What sort of bet? That you couldn't string together more than two sentences without using the word "I" in them?"

Brian snorted; that was rich. Yes, indeed; this man had a LOT of nerve. "Not quite," he told him as he turned to face him. "I bet him that someone wasn't gay, and it turned out that he was. In fact, he's one of the other participants in the benefit."

Justin internally counted off the other males in the group, and could come to only one conclusion as he smiled. "Drew Boyd, you mean." He had seen the athlete's surprising statement last weekend during a news conference. It wasn't so much surprising what he had said, though; it was the fact that he had finally admitted it. "I figured out he was gay a long time ago," he told Brian.

Brian looked at him in astonishment - as well as doubt. "Yeah, right. How did you figure that?"

"It was the way he acted around his so-called fiancée," he told him. "He didn't have that _look_."

Brian raised an eyebrow. "Oh, and what sort of look is that, Teach?"

Justin shrugged as he struggled to explain. "I don't know...that _I'm in love with you_ sort of look, I guess."

Brian peered over at him skeptically. "Uh, huh. And just what does 'that look' look like, Mr. Taylor? Have YOU ever been in love before?"

Justin licked his lips nervously; just being up close and personal with this man was making his temperature go up - and making it very difficult for him to think straight. He wasn't about to let him know that, though. He gazed into the smoldering, hazel eyes of his pupil as he told him honestly, "No, I haven't. But whenever I saw them together, they just didn't look like they were in love. I observed their body language; they didn't lean in toward each other, they didn't look into each other's eyes when they talked about their engagement." Not realizing the danger he was in, he impulsively reached out and began to stroke Brian's hands and wrists as he tried to make his point. "When people are in love, they want to touch each other and hold each other's hands and kiss; I never saw them doing that." Brian's eyes bored into his as Justin suddenly realized what he was doing; he watched Brian's Adam's apple bob up and down as the other man swallowed hard before he snatched his hands away as if he had been burned. He averted his eyes away from him in embarrassment. "They...They don't touch each other," he finally mumbled as he nervously rubbed his hands on his thighs.

Brian cleared his throat and took a deep breath, unwilling to let this man know how much that touch had affected him as well. "Yeah, well, that's an interesting theory, Taylor, but I'm not convinced. Let's get to work, okay? I may have lost a bet, but I'm NOT going to lose this contest."

Justin turned and nodded at him as he prepared to repeat the dance moves again. "Okay...one step to the right, one forward, and then one back."


	4. Getting to Know Each Other Better

_Two Hours Later..._

Brian wiped the sweat off the back of his neck with a thin, white towel and hung it around his shoulders; he was sweating harder than a prizefighter in the boxing ring. His 'instructor who had never been in love before' was an out-and-out taskmaster; he hadn't let up on him since they had started. And he thought this was going to be a walk in the park. _Holy shit_. Breathing heavily, he bent over at the waist and placed his hands on his thighs to try and get some air back into his lungs.

Justin smirked from his place several feet away; Brian may be in terrific shape, but he obviously was using some muscles he normally didn't use. "Let's take a five-minute break," he told him as Brian rose back up to stare over at him aghast.

"Five minutes?" he groused breathlessly, still breathing heavily. "I won't even get my fucking _breath_ back in five minutes! They should have called this dance the speed-of-light-step, not the quick step! Do we have to go that fast?"

Justin grinned. "I'm not even up to the right tempo yet," he told Brian to his horror. "We're only practicing at about ¾ time so far. It's going to go even faster once you get the steps right."

Brian's mouth hung open. "You're fucking kidding me, right?"

Justin smiled ever more widely as he shook his head. "Afraid not." He paused to look over at Brian sweating profusely; his armpits were soaked with sweat and his hair was plastered to his forehead. Even looking like he had gone for a 20-mile jog, though, the man was still sexy as hell. "Okay - we'll take a fifteen-minute break; you talked me into it."

Brian rolled his eyes. "How magnanimous of you. I'll even buy you a drink for that." He walked over to grab two white paper cups from atop the water cooler and poured him and Justin some water. Collapsing onto one of the nearby, hard plastic chairs, he handed one of the cups to Justin as he walked up and sat down next to him. Downing his water in record time, he turned to look over at Justin curiously. "So how long have you been giving dancing lessons? You look like you're barely out of high school."

Justin finished his drink and crumpled the paper cup up into a ball before tossing it deftly into a metal trash can about eight feet away. Brian cocked an eyebrow, impressed at his accuracy, as he told him, "I'm almost 22, I'll have you know." He sighed. "I'm always being told that. Every time I go to a bar they have to card me. Either that or they tell me that Kiddie Night is the week after."

Brian grinned at him as he continued, "I've been giving lessons for a few years now, at least for a job. I started dancing when I could barely walk. My parents always told me that I was one of those kids constantly in motion from Day One. I began by taking tap lessons when I was five, and then kind of went through the gamut from clogging to ballroom dancing and even, yes, ballet," he admitted with a self-effacing grimace. "I never told the kids at school about that, though; they were already calling me names by the time I was in junior high - faggot, queer, pussy, you name it. The last thing I wanted was to add fuel to the fire. I wound up taking ballet lessons in another town." He looked straight ahead as if he were recollecting what had happened as he explained, "I was really getting good by then, so much so that I started giving free lessons to some people at the country club my parents belonged to. When I saw an advertisement in the paper for dance instructors here, I auditioned and wound up with the job."

Brian eyed him quietly before he told him sincerely, "You're good at it."

Justin flushed at the unexpected compliment. "Thanks," he said softly. "But it's not what I really want to do."

Brian digested that surprising piece of information. "No? Then what DO you want to do?"

He watched as Justin's eyes lit up and he smiled one of those amazing smiles that must have caused Debbie to change his name to Sunshine; it certainly fit. "I want to paint. I love art and everything that goes into creating it."

"Then why don't you?"

Justin shook his head at Brian's naivety. "I wish it were that easy. It's fucking expensive for one thing. And you need some training to improve your skills, even if you can draw. I'm trying to save up enough money working here to enroll in the Pittsburgh Institute of Fine Arts; that's my ultimate dream."

Brian's eyes widened; while he was certainly no artist, he still employed plenty of them at Kinnetik, and he had definitely heard of PIFA, as well as what it took to get in there. "That's quite a school," he commented as Justin nodded in agreement. "They have high academic standards for enrollment, from what I understand. And they only take a small percentage of those that enroll."

Justin eyed him curiously. "That's right. How do YOU know that?"

Brian shrugged. "That's what I've heard. I'm the CEO of an advertising agency; I employ dozens of artists for the ad campaigns we produce. I only hire the best, and so far, the best of the best that I've hired have come from PIFA. Whenever I interview someone, the first thing I look at is their academic record and their portfolio. I've never been disappointed with any candidates that I've hired who have that school on their resume."

Justin nodded. "It's a wonderful school!" he gushed enviously. "All their professors are talented artists in their own right - painters, musicians, sculptors, even Tony award winners." He let out a deep breath of resignation. "But all that talent doesn't come cheap. If it did, I wouldn't need to be HERE."

Brian pulled his towel from around his neck and wiped his still-sweaty brow with it; between the rigorous exertion and the high-wattage, recessed lights shining above, it had become quite hot in the room. "You don't like to dance?" he asked softly as he stared over at Justin. "You're so graceful out there," he found himself saying. "You look like you were born to dance." It was the truth, too; Justin seemed to have a natural-born talent for movement; it was both mesmerizing as well as flawless in its execution.

Justin blushed at the compliment. "Thanks," he murmured. "I do like to dance; but it's not where my heart - or my path - lies." He glanced around at the all-too familiar room; he had lost count of how many clients he had worked with over the past few years in this space; they all seemed to blur together after a while, although with Brian it seemed vastly different. He had a feeling he would remember every step they took together from now on. He let out a deep breath as he put his hands on his knees and used them to propel himself off his seat. "Break's over," he announced as he extended a hand down toward his handsome pupil. "Now that you've practiced the individual steps, let's see how well you can perform them with your partner."

Brian gazed up at the beautiful face before he slowly reached out and clasped Justin's hand; his heart lurching with emotion as they connected. Shit, this was like nothing he had ever experienced before. How could this young, blond twink do that to someone like him? He purposely plastered on a neutral face as he allowed Justin to pull him up out of his chair and mourned the loss of his hand in his as Justin broke off their handhold to walk over to the CDs to pick out a song to use. He watched silently as Justin turned his back on him and continued to wonder just what it was about this young man that fascinated him so. Yes, he was definitely hot. A compact, beautiful body that fit his features perfectly. But there was something about his spunkiness, his drive, and his passion - along with that wondrous smile - that intrigued him.

A fast-tempo song began to play from the CD player as Justin turned around to walk out toward the middle of the room. He smiled over at Brian as he cocked an eyebrow up and said, "Okay, old man. Let's see what you've got."

Brian grinned as he walked closer. "I already tried to show you _my stuff_. I'll tell you what - I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

Justin laughed at the silly response. "Later," he said to Brian's disappointment, although there was something almost challenging in that statement. Maybe Justin DID mean 'later.' "For now, we've got work to do."

Brian licked his lips in amusement as he walked up to him. "Okay, so I'm leading this little performance, right? After all, I AM taller - and _bigger..._At least where it counts."

Justin smirked. "Don't be so sure of that," was the unexpectedly cocky reply as Brian raised his eyebrows. "And for now, I'M the teacher, so I lead; got it?"

Brian grinned as he placed his hand on Justin's shoulder and the two clasped their hands together beside them in a classic, dancing pose. "Okay, Teach; but only for now."


	5. The lesson Continues

_One Hour Later..._

"Ouch! Dammit, Brian! What did I tell you?"

"Well, if you would keep your feet away from mine, it wouldn't happen!"

Justin huffed in disbelief as they came to an abrupt stop and he plopped down onto the hardwood floor in disgust; his earlier suspicions had been proven correct. Brian was gorgeous and sexy as hell; confident, brash, and outspoken. But when it came to dancing with a partner, the man couldn't keep time any better than the White Rabbit in Alice in Wonderland. This was at least the fifth time that he had stepped on his feet, and they were throbbing in agony now. It wasn't the first time a novice dancer had done that, but Brian seemed to be doing it at every other turn. "How many times do I have to tell you - don't look down! It just breaks your concentration and you lose your focus! You need to be looking at _me_! Your partner indicates where you need to go - quit trying to lead me around the dance floor!"

Brian rolled his eyes as he looked down at his exasperated dance instructor. "I'm not used to being a follower," he protested. "I need to be in control."

Justin shook his head in aggravation from his place on the floor as he pulled his sneakers off and massaged his tortured toes with a groan. He was going to have to have a long soak in a bath tub when they got done today - and it was just the first day. He could only _imagine_ what his feet would look like after a month of this. He sighed as Brian sat down, cross-legged, beside him. "That may be the case out in the corporate world, Brian, or wherever you do your fucking, but here I'M in control. I'M the instructor, NOT you. If you can't give up that control at least while you're here, then this isn't going to work. That's all there is to it." He eyed Brian without blinking. "Just how important is it to you that you win?"

"I don't like to lose," Brian replied with conviction as he picked at some imaginary lint on the floor and cast his eyes downward. "Losing the damn bet was bad enough."

"Well, if you don't start following my directions and paying attention, we don't stand a snowball's chance in hell of winning this," Justin told him flatly. "And you know what? I imagine money is never an issue for YOU, but I could _use_ that extra prize money toward my tuition fund."

Brian lifted his gaze to peer over at his dance partner. The way Justin broached the subject, it made him sound selfish as hell, and he found he didn't like that feeling. And he _definitely_ didn't like to lose. Was he going to let it happen again? _Hell, no_.

He stood up and reached his hand down toward Justin. "Break time's over, Mr. Taylor. Time to get back to work - _teacher_."

Justin gazed up at him, somehow sensing a shifting of emotions slide across his handsome features. He nodded as he slipped his injured toes back into his shoes and reached to clasp the warm, large hand being offered to him to let Brian pull him up and face him. He watched as Brian reached over and placed Justin's hand around his waist as he placed his own hand on Justin's upper arm in the subservient position. Their other hands seemed to come together of one accord as their fingers twined together out to the side of their bodies. Their faces were mere inches apart as their eyes bored into each other's.

Brian was lost in a sea of blue as he peered into a pair of expressive eyes that seemed to go on and on in their intensity. "Lead the way," he whispered before he forgot what they were doing and smashed his lips against the other man's mouth that seemed to be begging for a good, hard, bruising kiss. But first things first, he thought with just a twinge of disappointment. Once they were done, however, all bets were off - in more ways than one.

* * *

_Seven P.M. _

Brian practically limped off the floor and collapsed onto one of the hard, plastic chairs. He and Justin had just spent hours practicing their first dance routine, and while they had barely just gotten started, he had to admit his dancing instructor was proving to be quite a teacher. He was actually almost capable of keeping up with the quick, staccato steps required of their first dance now, even though he still tended to move right when Justin moved left. Despite his decision to let Justin take the lead, it was still incredibly hard for him to give up control. The thought of losing was even worse, though; there was NO way he was going to give Emmett - or anyone else - that satisfaction. It was all - or nothing. There WAS no in between.

Justin plopped down beside him on another chair, propping his elbows on his knees as he held his head in his hands. He felt a hand on his shoulder as he lifted his head to peer over at Brian. "You look exhausted," Justin commented.

Brian snorted. "I wonder why. And I thought winning an advertising campaign was hard! I'm sure I've used muscles today that I didn't even know I had. And I'm sure I'll hurt like a bitch tomorrow morning."

"And not in a good way, either," Justin joked as they shared a grin. "It'll get better," he tried to reassure him. "The more you use those muscles in the coming days, the more they won't hurt as much."

"Before or after I fall on my ass again?" he asked. If Justin had had his toes stepped on ten times today, he had fallen on his ass even more. And unlike his dance partner, he didn't have a lot of extra padding back there. Not that he was complaining about Justin's, however; that perfectly-rounded ass just made the man even _more_ tempting. After spending literally hours in this man's arms, too, he wasn't so sure he would be able to maintain his silent vow to keep it all business until the benefit was over, not when he spent literally every moment with him wondering what it would be like to fuck his ass over and over again into his mattress back at the loft.

"Well, you know what they say; nothing worth doing is worth doing half-assed," Justin said solemnly before his face broke into a wide grin.

Brian snorted. "Little shit," he muttered as he shifted on his seat and groaned in reaction. "You are done torturing me for the day, I hope?"

Justin nodded as Brian rose stiffly to his feet. "We need to meet back here tomorrow afternoon at 4. Everyone's required to rehearse weekdays from..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know the drill," Brian told him. Debbie had covered all that information before the dancers had come out. "Four hours a night, eight on the weekends." Justin nodded again in confirmation. "Something tells me I'll be sleeping with a different sort of man tonight; Ben Gay."

Justin laughed then; a sort of magical, contagious laugh that made Brian laugh ruefully along with him. "Try a nice, hot bath, too," Justin suggested as he rose to stand beside him.

"Only have a shower," Brian informed him as he peered into his eyes. "Care to come over and do some tangoing in it with me? I can't promise I'll let you lead, though."

Justin blushed. "Tempting offer," he conceded softly. "But no; I have more clients to teach first thing tomorrow morning."

Brian nodded, secretly disappointed but not willing to give the idea up; it was simply too delicious a thought. Besides, he didn't give up that easily -not when it was something - or someone - that he wanted as badly as he wanted this man. He knew it was just a matter of time...

"Suit yourself, Teach," he told him as he turned to go, limping toward the rear door heading out toward the back parking lot where his vehicle was parked. It was hard to come off as dominating and assertive when his entire body hurt like hell. "I'll be back tomorrow for your next round of torture."

Justin silently watched him go, wondering just who was actually going to be torturing whom.


	6. A Personal Mission

_One Week Later_

Debbie quietly trod the halls of the practice area, opening up each door to check on the progress of each pair of dancers. It seemed that each amateur participant had the same type of reaction to the hectic pace of their practicing - part laughter in places, part frustration when the performance didn't go the way it should, and eventual pride in finally getting one of the dance routines down right. Yes, everything seemed to be progressing nicely toward the event coming up. She knew that none of them would exactly be consummate dancers when it came time for the exhibition, but some of them, particularly Drew Boyd, were becoming quite good.

She paused at the last door on the right, placing her ear against the door to listen to the sound of music filtering through. She could tell by the up-tempo tune that her youngest employee was practicing the faster routine with his pupil, which made sense to her. The faster dance always seemed to be the hardest one to perfect. She could hear some loud debating of some type above the music, and she couldn't help wondering if she had done the right thing by pairing up Justin with Brian Kinney; the man reminded her of a shark ready to eat the tender flesh of an unsuspecting, smaller prey, but there had been something that had passed between them when they had first met, something almost electrical in nature, and her instincts had told her to throw caution to the wind and hope for the best. Quietly opening the door, she observed the two of them facing each other in an almost combative pose. Justin had his arms crossed over his chest as Kinney leaned over him, his eye flashing and his hands on his hips.

"Why can't we do it the way I fucking want to do it?" Brian growled. "It makes much more sense for ME to twirl you around and dip you; after all, I'm taller than you - a LOT taller."

"Said the bully to the little kid at the playground," Justin retorted as Brian shook his head and huffed out an irritated breath. "Haven't you listened to anything I've said all week? I'M the professional here, Brian, and I'M the one that knows the dance, and in the quick dance, you do NOT twirl your partner around like a flamenco dancer."

"I never _said_ that! I just said that we needed to put something more dramatic into our dance!"

"Yeah, and it will wind up getting us _disqualified_, too! You're not permitted to change up the dances just to suit your whims! I hate to disappoint, you, _Mr. Kinney, _but you'll just have to follow the rules and show off your 'glorious body' some _other _way!"

Brian snorted. "I don't NEED to 'show it off'! I get plenty of action already, trust me!"

"Getting blown in some back room and being judged by professionals are two different things!"

"Boys, boys, boys," Debbie interrupted as both men turned slightly to observe her walking up to them. They had been so engrossed in their 'conversation' that they hadn't even noticed her coming in. "What the fuck is going on in here? This sounds more like a boxing match than a dance practice!"

"Brian's wanting to throw in a bunch of moves that don't belong in the quick step," Justin told her as Brian rolled his eyes in aggravation. "He's going to wind up fucking it up."

"Well, thank you for your confidence in my abilities, _Sunshine_," he quipped. "Good thing I don't need your vote of support to make me feel self-assured."

"Oh, there's no lack of that," Justin agreed sarcastically.

Debbie held up her hands for quiet as she glanced down at Justin's feet and frowned. "Why are you wearing boots? That won't help you move very well around the dance floor."

"I wouldn't HAVE to wear steel-toed boots if someone wasn't stepping on my toes all the fucking time!" Justin informed her as Debbie pursed her lips tightly together to keep from laughing.

"I do NOT step on your toes all the time!" Brian protested loudly, but silently he knew Justin was right; not a day went by where he wasn't either stepping on his insole, his toes, or making the younger man trip when their feet tangled. He imagined Justin had bruises all over his body by now. He had to admit it - he was lousy at this stuff. But he was NOT going to quit until he had it down pat - he was NOT a loser. Never was, never will be. Just the fact that he had lost a bet to Emmy Lou was enough to create a sour taste in his mouth. He would show him - he would show ALL of them - if it was the last thing he did.

"Oh, yeah?" Justin pulled his jeans leg up enough above his left ankle and pushed down his sock to show Debbie some mottled, black-and-blue flesh. Some bruises were fresh ones, while others were yellowish, indicating slow healing. It was obvious, though, that Justin was suffering the effects of a dancing partner who was not very coordinated - at least not standing up. "Trust me - I might be giving up a little flexibility during rehearsals, but it's purely for self-preservation."

Debbie eyed the taller man intently. He WAS quite handsome in a classic, bad-boy, devil-may-care sort of way. He would no doubt cut a dramatic figure on the dance floor, especially with Justin as his partner. Could they survive being together, however, for three more weeks without killing each other? Something, some inkling of intuition, told her that there just might be more to their bickering and catfights than met the eye. Debbie had loved and lost enough over the years to firmly believe that there was, indeed, a fine line between love and hate - and passion. If they could just bridle that passion into their dance routine, they just might be unstoppable.

She nodded over at Justin. "I have confidence in you, Sunshine. I have confidence that you can whip even the sorriest dancer into shape." Brian opened his mouth to protest as Justin emitted what distinctly sounded like a giggle, but he thought better of it when Debbie waggled a plump, red-lacquered index in front of him. "And _YOU_! If you want to win this thing, you'd better fucking pay attention to what Sunshine here says! He's won several competitions, and knows exactly what he's doing. So get off your high horse and start listening to him, or you can just bow out now and I'll find another contestant for him to teach! Capiche?"

For some reason that Brian Kinney refused to acknowledge, the thought of this fiery blond dancing with someone else for hours at a time, day after day, while rehearsing for the upcoming benefit didn't sit well with him at all. He rather _enjoyed_ their daily sparring matches. The dancing not so much. But he was finding he looked forward to seeing Justin, even if he DID despise the reason for being there. So far, though, he hadn't found the right incentive for Justin to join him somewhere else besides the dance floor. All his nonchalant attempts to get him to come out with him for a casual drink at Woody's or to shoot a round of pool with him had led to a dead end. And Justin had eyed him like he had a third leg when he had even hinted at going to Babylon to dance, although a third leg might come in handy here. Justin told him the _last_ thing he felt like doing after practicing with him for the benefit was dancing at a club. He supposed he could see his point. But that didn't leave much else to suggest; somehow he didn't think that just asking him to come home with him so they could fuck would go over real well, even though the idea was constantly on his mind every time they danced in each other's arms.

"Excuse me? Earth to Kinney."

"Huh?" _Very verbose, Kinney_, he chided himself as he looked over at Debbie as she crooked one brow at him.

"I said...Justin here doesn't have time for your shit. Are you going to do what he says, or should I just scratch your dance card right now? This benefit means too much to me for you to fuck it up!" Her voice caught in her throat as the emotions began to overwhelm her; the pain was still too raw, too fresh.

"Why do YOU care so much?" he retorted.

"Brian..." Justin began in warning as he reached over to grasp his wrist, but Debbie held her hand up to stop him.

"What?" he asked curtly as Justin sighed.

She took a deep breath as her eyes flashed. "I care...I care because the Vic Grassi House is named for my brother, that's why; my brother who died of AIDS about a year ago." Debbie had been out of state when her brother had died at his apartment. He had always been so independent, stubbornly so, to the point where he had just about thrown her out of his apartment when she had come to visit for Christmas and had even slightly hinted at moving back home to help take care of him. He had told her in no uncertain terms to butt out and let him handle it. She knew he had done it out of love for her; that he hadn't wanted her to be saddled with wiping his ass, making sure he took his mountain of meds, or taking him to constant doctor appointments to the point of total exhaustion. So she had finally, reluctantly, returned back home down south, vowing to come back in six months when the weather warmed up and stay with her brother permanently whether he wanted her to or not.

Before she could do that, however, he had been forced to move into the hospice house and had died just days before she could come back up to Pittsburgh. She had been greatly touched when the organization that ran the house had decided to rename the hospice posthumously in her brother's memory in recognition for his unwavering volunteer assistance to the residents before he had become too ill to continue and had been forced to become one himself. She reckoned that she would never forgive herself, though, for not being there when her brother had died. At least this benefit would partially make up for that, and she wasn't about to let anything destroy that, no matter _how_ much she felt that Brian and her employee were a perfect couple for the event.

"So no matter how fine a male specimen you think you are, Kinney, I'm not going to let you disrupt the event. So what's it going to be? Are you going to be a participant or someone warming your ass out in the audience?"

Brian harrumphed. "First of all - I do NOT attend events that have anything to do with that organization; those people are boring, pompous boors."

"Fine," Debbie spat out, a little surprised that someone who appeared to be such a tenacious bulldog in advertising would give up so easily; since meeting the man, she had done some checking about him online, and had found out he was quite the marketing genius, not to mention extremely affluent. Why, then, he would even agree to being in a dance contest was beyond her. "I'll just find someone else..."

"No!" Brian replied vehemently, surprising both her AND Justin by the intensity in his voice. He felt his face warm as they both looked over at him in shock. "I mean...I'm not a quitter, no matter _how _distasteful it might be. I'm in it for the long haul."

"Gee, thanks," Justin replied dryly. "I feel honored."

"I said I would follow your damn instructions, okay?"

Justin snorted. "That's not what _I _heard. Say it."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Tell me - and Debbie - that you will let ME decide what is best for the dance contest."

"Oh, for...Okay! Okay! I will bow to your wisdom, oh Blond One."

Justin rolled his eyes as Debbie's eyes twinkled in amusement. She grinned; feeling more and more confident that she had, indeed, made the right choice to put them together. "Okay, then," she replied. "Don't let him give you any shit, Sunshine. If he does, just take those steel-toed boots and give him a dose of his OWN medicine."

Brian harrumphed in irritation as Justin smiled over at her. "Good idea; that should make him 'toe' the line." He looked over at Brian before bursting out laughing at the other man's disgusted expression.

She nodded as she turned to go. "Three more weeks, Boys! Make them count! Drew Boyd's looking mighty fine!" she informed them just before she slipped back out the door and left the two of them alone again, the CD now long done playing the tune they were using for practicing.

"Drew Boyd's looking mighty fine!" Brian sing-songed sarcastically. "Yeah, let's see what he looks like without all that nylon surrounding his ass," Brian added. "THEN let's see how he cha-cha-chas."

Justin stared at him for a few seconds before the two for them abruptly burst out laughing at how ridiculous that sounded. "You're a freak!" Justin commented in between fits of laughter.

Brian couldn't help grinning back at him. "Just telling it like it is. As soon as those athletes slide out of their jock strap, everything goes south, just like all those old ladies and their bras."

Justin shook his head with a smile. "I'll keep that in mind next time I date my grandma," he told him dryly. "Now can we please get back to our rehearsals?"

Brian nodded. "Just as long as you don't step on MY toes."

"I'll try to control myself."


	7. An Unexpected Offer

Those last words proved to be quite prophetic in Brian's opinion, since two weeks later Justin was displaying unflappable control; so much so, in fact, that as much as Brian looked forward to seeing Justin each afternoon for their practicing, he also dreaded it. Dreaded it, because despite his constant innuendoes that he wanted to do some dancing in the sheets as well as on the dance floor with his beautiful partner, Justin wasn't taking the bait. They had finally perfected their quick-step routine and had moved onto their slower number, which turned out be a waltz.

At first Brian had thought it sounded totally old-fashioned and archaic to be dancing a waltz - it conjured up images of some stuffy old man with a handlebar mustache prancing around with a woman wearing a bonnet and a bustle - but he quickly learned as he spent hours upon hours holding Justin in his arms and having their cocks consistently rubbing up against each other as they moved that it wasn't old fashioned at all; it was more like sheer torture. He had to bite back a groan each time they touched so intimately, swearing not to come across as some love-struck virgin fag as he stared into Justin's eyes. But he had never had to work so hard in his life to get a man into his bed, and it was driving him stark, raving mad. He felt like some kid who kept being deprived of his favorite candy and wanted it more and more each time he was rebuffed. He had come to realize just how seriously Justin took his craft - the man was relentless in his instruction and would make them do the same few steps over and over again until he decided they were flawless - but enough was enough; was this twink made of stone? Surely someone as amazing as Justin looked had to be hit upon on a regular basis, and there was no debate that HE could have any man he wanted.

Today, then, as he showed up for one more rehearsal and slid in through the back door, he vowed that today would be the day that he broke through that unyielding shell and exposed the passion he knew was hidden underneath; rejection was no longer an option OR a possibility...

"Hey," Justin greeted him, making Brian's heart flutter like it _always _did whenever he bestowed that blinding smile on him like he was now.

"Hey," Brian replied in kind as he approached his dance partner. When Justin turned his back on him to find the music they were using for their rehearsal and to slide the CD into the player, Brian walked over and deliberately encroached on his personal space, pressing his body up against Justin's back. He could feel the blond stiffen upon contact when he placed his hands on Justin's waist and he couldn't help smirking in triumph. "Feeling alright today?" he whispered hotly in Justin's ear; he couldn't resist tasting a nip at the fleshy part of Justin's ear as Justin jumped back in reaction and turned around in Brian's arms.

"What are you doing?" he struggled to say, his blue eyes wide with _what_? Surprise? Desire? Fear? He couldn't quite tell. This man was an expert at confusing the hell out of him.

"Aren't we going to practice the waltz today?" he asked him innocently. To his chagrin, Justin snorted softly.

"That's the plan," Justin agreed. "But it's dancing; not a contact sport."

Brian grinned as he grasped Justin tightly by the upper arms and pressed their bodies closer together. "Oh, really? You could have fooled me." He could literally feel Justin's heart thumping rapidly against his own chest and the beginnings of an impressive hard-on against his leg as the blond slowly lifted his gaze to look into Brian's eyes. The typical, expected reaction he would normally receive when he pulled this on any other man didn't happen, however as Justin sighed in exasperation.

"Brian...We only have this studio reserved for the next four hours. We need to get started."

"I couldn't agree more...," he immediately stated, tongue planted firmly in cheek; he wasn't willing to give up THAT easily.

To Brian's disbelief, however, Justin shook his head as he pulled away from his embrace. "Brian, we've been through all this before; I'm here to teach you to _dance_, not to be the newest notch on your bedpost." He turned around to walk over to the water cooler to snatch one of the paper cups and, with a slightly shaky hand, dispense some of the cold liquid into it. Tilting his head back, he downed it in one gulp, using the gesture to try and calm his nerves; he could feel the heat of Brian's gaze on him as he drank, but tried as best he could to ignore it. Every day when he waited for Brian to appear, he felt like he was getting ready to walk into a fire, a burning mixture of desire and almost overwhelming emotion.

Fuck knows he found himself being sorely tempted on a daily basis by this smart-alecky, cocky, but complex man who was gorgeous as hell; it was bad enough he had to hold hands with him or feel his arm around his waist as they pressed their bodies close together and danced; it was almost too much for your average, red-blooded, horny male to withstand. The man practically dripped sex just by the way he carried himself, and obviously Brian Kinney wasn't used to taking no for an answer, nor did he need to, Justin ventured. But he had to stay on focus; he needed that prize money badly if he was going to get into PIFA. And while Debbie had been lavishing praise on Drew Boyd's athletic grace and fluidity on the dance floor, Brian had dramatically improved from the first day they had started; he actually had hope now that they just might possibly pull this off. That was only if he could keep Brian on track - and his own desires under control.

Brian placed his hands on his hips and sighed as Justin turned around to face him, feeling inexplicably like a matador trying to tempt the bull - or bull-headed male in this case - closer. "What's wrong with a little stress reliever, Sunshine? God knows we both are strung out about as far as we can go with all this practicing. Wouldn't you like a way to _relieve_ some of that tension? Did you not say the other day that flexibility was important to proper dancing posture?"

"Well, yeah, but what does that..?"

Brian walked up to Justin, their bodies merely inches apart as he stared down into the luminous, blue eyes; _fuck, he could get lost in those eyes..._

"Well, I can't think of a better way to practice your flexibility than throwing your legs up over my shoulders, bending your entire body in half, and fucking your brains out until you're limp and boneless as a dishrag." His eyes slowly traveled down Justin's body until he saw the tightness around his crotch; smirking, he boldly reached over to squeeze the hardened flesh with his fingers as Justin bit back a groan, relieved but also a little disappointed when Brian blessedly let him go after a few seconds.

"See, you're way too _tense; _and there's nothing 'limp' about you right now_._" Justin couldn't help the deep pink tint that suddenly appeared on his cheeks against his will as Brian urged huskily, "Come home with me after our practice session tonight, and I'll teach YOU a few things from the master."

Justin swallowed hard; he had certainly had his share of pursuers before, but no one who caused this much desire to blossom within him. It would be so easy to take Brian up on his offer; TOO easy. But he had more pride than that. He had met men like Kinney before; once they got what they wanted, they would drop you like yesterday's news. "I can't do that," he found the courage to say as he pulled back just enough to stand out of Brian's reach. "I'm not into one-night stands."

Brian's mouth hung open; was this guy kidding? Someone who looked like him certainly couldn't be a virgin - or a saint...Could he? Was he one of those freakish, old-fashioned types, though, that wanted to be courted? Wooed? Romanced? Perhaps the better question was, how much was he willing to do just to get this man into his bed? He couldn't believe he was even thinking about it.

"Well, if you're not into cock, then what ARE you into, Justin Taylor?" he found himself saying. He had never cared before when someone wouldn't go home with him; and the chances were good that once the benefit was over, he would never see this man again. So why in the hell did he care WHAT he wanted? For the moment, he wasn't willing to even consider the reasons why; he just knew that it somehow mattered.

Justin snorted. "Like you care."

"I asked, didn't I?"

Justin stared into the intense, hazel eyes that were boring into his like a heat-seeking missile. "I didn't say I 'wasn't into cock," he retorted a little defensively. "I just like to get to know someone a little better before I jump into bed with them."

"Who said anything about a bed?" Brian countered. "I was talking about fucking."

Justin shook his head in resigned aggravation. "Just forget it; I should have known better than to think we could have an intelligent discussion about sex."

"I'm VERY intelligent," Brian corrected him. "I just don't see the need to be some weak lesbian in order to fuck."

Justin shrugged. "Fine. We can just agree to disagree, then. So let's get back to work," he urged Brian, his voice strong and firm. Inside, though, Justin found himself extremely disappointed. He looked forward to seeing Brian each day; the man could be impatient, irascible, and stubborn; especially when a certain dance step wasn't going his way. But he was also intelligent, witty, and driven, all qualities that Justin admired and respected, not to mention that the man was probably the sexiest male he had ever laid eyes on.

But Brian never backed down from a challenge, and this particular situation both intrigued as well as galled him. No one had ever turned him down, and this little, obstinate blond wasn't going to be the first. "No," he found himself saying.

Justin placed his hands on his hips. "No, what? You're not backing out of this now?"

Brian let out a heavy sigh; he couldn't believe he was doing this. "I mean, okay."

Justin closed his eyes shut in exasperation before he opened them to glare over at his pupil in confusion. "What? First you said, no, then okay. Will you please fucking tell me what you're talking about?"

Brian held out his hands in surrender. "Where do you want to go?"

Justin's heart pounded in his chest. _Could he actually mean...? _ "You mean...Are you trying to say that you want to...?"

"If you do much as utter that four-letter word, the deal's off," Brian warned him. "Just name a place." He couldn't believe what he was about to agree to, but just the unparalleled look of delight on Justin's face was enough to convince him that perhaps this wasn't such a bad thing. He would just have to make sure that wherever they wound up going, it would be somewhere where no one would expect to find him. "Well? Hurry up before I change my mind."

Justin's eyes lit up with joy as well as anxiety; he hadn't really expected Brian to agree to go out on a date. Now that he had, however, he was breaking out into a nervous sweat. Unfortunately, too, since they hadn't even started practicing today, he couldn't even blame it on their dancing. "Well, uh, there's this Italian restaurant somebody told me about that sounded pretty interesting..."

Brian felt enormously relieved; now that didn't sound too bad. Everyone had to eat; that didn't necessarily mean that anyone would consider him to be out on a date if by some chance they saw him and Justin together. He could just tell them he's a client or something; or in Justin's case, maybe the _son_ of a client. What in the hell was he doing? he couldn't help wondering. This kid was so much younger than he. But, shit, he was bright, funny, talented, and graceful; not to mention absolutely beautiful in one, neat, compact package. "7:30."

Justin frowned. "Huh?" This conversation had to be one of the weirdest ones he had ever engaged in. He almost felt like he and Brian were speaking in a foreign tongue.

Brian pinched his nose between his fingers before he let out a breath. "I'll pick you up at 7:30; give me your address and phone number."

Justin's heart started to thump; shit, he really WAS going out on a date with him! His joy over that fact, however, was tempered with a sobering thought, one that he needed to straighten out right now. "717 Clausen Street, #212," he rattled off along with his phone number, which Brian promptly programmed into his cell phone. "Uh, Brian..."

"Yeah?"

"I just want to be clear with you," he began tentatively as Brian raised an eyebrow in question. "Just because I'm agreeing to go out with you tonight doesn't mean that we'll..."

Brian harrumphed. "It's just dinner, Justin; I have to eat just like everyone else. Trust me," he added with a smirk, his swagger firmly back in place, "I don't have to beg anyone to put out, and I don't need to force myself on anyone, either." _Even if I do want you so badly, my entire body practically aches for it... _He shrugged. "Besides, if I needed to get my rocks off that bad, I could just fuck one of the waiters; it wouldn't be the first time."

Justin bristled at the thought; who did he think he was? "No, you won't," he said quietly.

"What?"

"I said...NO, you won't. If I go out on a date with someone, I expect to spend time with them - not cool my heels while they go satisfy their sexual urges in the bathroom. Or do you fuck them in the broom closet instead?"

Brian grinned. "Actually, I prefer the cloakroom. All that Armani and Prada can be so arousing."

"Unbelievable," Justin muttered. He threw up his hands. "Just forget it, then! If you can't go more than one night without fucking anything that moves, then maybe we'd just better keep our relationship professional. I'll teach you what you need to know and as soon as this benefit is over with, you never have to have anything else to do with me again, okay? I can go back to teaching someone else, and you can go back to your daily fucking routine - or should I say _hourly_ routine."

"No." The word was out of Brian's mouth before he could stop himself.

Justin sighed heavily before he shook his head and smacked his palm against his forehead. "Here we go again. I feel like we're playing twenty questions here, Brian!" He rolled his eyes. He held up his hands. "Okay, I'll bite. No...What, Brian?"

Brian walked over to Justin, a surprisingly serious expression on his face. He pressed his tongue into his cheek as he explained, "I mean, no, I don't want us to just have a 'professional' relationship." Justin's eyes widened slightly. "I _do_ want to get to know you better." He hadn't really understood just how MUCH he had wanted that until Justin had threatened to keep everything 'just business.' The more time he was spending with this man, the more captivated he was becoming. The idea, then, of just limiting their interaction to 'business' was distinctly unappealing.

It was important to Justin however, that he be sure they were on the same page. "But I already told you..."

Brian placed his hands on Justin's upper arms, the heat of his touch piercing right through the cotton of Justin's shirt. "I know. I get it. Okay. I promise when we have dinner tonight, you will be the focus of my attention. And I if DO go to the bathroom or the cloakroom, it will be either because I have to piss or I need to retrieve my coat so we can leave. Okay?"

Justin _wanted _to believe that; he still wasn't totally convinced, though. "You mean that?" Brian's fingers idly caressing his shoulders was making Justin crazy inside; he wondered fleetingly what it would feel like to have bare skin against bare skin, but immediately forced himself not to go there. After all, HE was the one who had just told Brian he didn't do 'one-night stands.'

"One thing you'll find out about me, Justin Taylor, is that I always keep my word. I don't break a promise to anyone. So if I say that's what I'm going to do, that's what I will do. So 7:30?" To his surprise, Brian found himself holding his breath as he waited for an answer.

Justin swallowed, noticing Brian's eyes darkening slightly in reaction. He licked his lips to wet them before he replied as calmly as he could, "7:30 will be fine."

Brian nodded. "Good," he finally stated. "Now can we get on with our practicing? I don't know about you, but I'm planning on _winning_ this fucking thing."

Justin nodded in agreement as he walked over to the CD player and turned it on, a worrisome tendril of doubt still crossing his mind. He pushed it aside, however, as a few minutes later they were once more dancing in each other's arms, both reveling in the sensations it engendered as they mutually wondered just how much longer they could go without reaching a point of total combustion.


	8. Getting Ready for the Date

_Debbie's House - 7:20 p.m._

Debbie's last bite of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream was promptly forgotten on her spoon as she heard footsteps and twisted around to observe her youngest dance instructor - and tenant - slowly walking down the shag-carpeted steps to stand at the bottom of the landing, looking like a million bucks. "Holy shit, Sunshine!" she exclaimed, her mouth agape. She had always thought of Justin as adorable with a smile that rivaled a supernova, but tonight, dressed in a pair of gray dress slacks, polished, black loafers, and a cherry-red, V-necked sweater with a dark gray cotton shirt, the young man was casually elegant and simply stunning.

Until now, Debbie hadn't even known Justin _owned_ any dressier clothes; his normal preference around the house and the studio was typically a pair of well-loved jeans, a long-sleeved, cotton tee shirt, and a pair of sneakers. As he stood there, however, his cheeks tinged with slight embarrassment over all the attention he was receiving, she thought he had never looked more handsome. "You look amazing, Justin!" She plunked the spoon back down in the carton and, placing it on the glass-topped coffee table, stood up to smooth Justin's sweater as she smiled at him tenderly. "What's the occasion? Somebody didn't die, did they?" she asked in sudden concern. "Oh, Honey, I'm so sorry..."

Justin laughed. "No, Deb, nobody died. Although I might feel like doing that by the time this date is over," he grumbled, his stomach in knots.

Debbie's eyes lit up in curiosity. "Date? You're going on a date?"

"Well, I DO go out from time to time," Justin reminded her a little defensively. She made it sound like he _never_ went anywhere. It was just that this particular 'date' promised to be a rather interesting one. Just the thought of Brian showing up any second, for example, made his heart begin to pound anxiously. He had certainly spent enough private time with the man, but that had been business; this would be the first they were truly alone for pleasure.

"I know," she told him with a soft smile. "It's just that you don't normally get this dressed up for one." Her smile broadened as she decided, "This one must be pretty special, then. Is it anyone I've met before? Carlo maybe?" Carlo was a delivery boy for a deli located near the dance studio; he often brought over their orders at lunchtime, and he made no pretense of hiding his interest in Justin. He openly flirted with him each time he showed up to the point of outright ignoring everyone else. It had gotten so bad, in fact, that they all gave JUSTIN their money so he in turn could pay Carlo. So far, though, Justin had been polite and cordial with him, but not overly encouraging.

He shook his head. "No, not Carlo." He paused for a moment, averting his eyes. "It's with someone else."

"Well, don't keep me in suspense, Sunshine! Tell me who it is that's caused you to get so gussied up? Where did you meet? What's his name? What does he do for a living?" The words rushed out in a torrent as Justin tried furiously to come up with an acceptable answer.

"Uh, he's in marketing," he answered softly as he twisted the gold band of his watch; it had been a gift from Debbie after winning his first competition about a year ago, and he felt guilty that he wasn't being upfront with her. He just didn't know how she would react to who his date was.

"He owns a grocery store?"

Justin had to smile at that; if Brian knew Debbie thought 'his date' worked at a supermarket, he would no doubt be highly insulted. "No, not that kind of marketing." He sighed; there was no point in being deceptive; he just didn't have it in him to do it anyway, and maybe he could use some feedback. "Actually, it's more like advertising." He gazed into her kindly-looking, curious eyes as he finally revealed softly, "I'm having dinner with Brian."

He winced as she promptly shrieked in his ear. "Brian Kinney? You're going on a date with HIM?!"

Justin nodded reluctantly in confirmation as Debbie beamed back at him like he had won the Nobel Prize. "Well, well, well, how did THAT happen, Sunshine?" It seems her initial impression had been correct about the two of them. Her little dancer had apparently roped him a big one.

Justin glanced over at her awkwardly, not sure if it was a good idea to tell Debbie any more or not. To say that she could sometimes get a little worked up about things was a major understatement. "It's not that big a deal," he mumbled. "We just decided that it might be nice to get to know each other better outside the dance studio, that's all."

"Uh, huh," Debbie murmured skeptically as Justin blushed over her scrutiny. To his consternation, she wasn't willing to just let his statement go at face value. "So who did the asking? Did YOU ask him out or did he?"

"Debbie," Justin responded, flustered.

"Oh, come on, Justin! You can't just leave it at that! Brian Kinney doesn't seem like the dating type. How did you get him to do it?"

Justin was trying hard not to get offended or irritated, but as much as Debbie tried to help him out, some things were simply none of her business. She was almost making it sound like he had to bribe the guy or something in order to get him to go out to dinner with him. Perhaps in a way, it _did _involve either a bribe - or blackmail - in order for Brian to agree to do it, and he knew what the other man's ulterior motive was. He fully intended on sticking to his convictions, however, about not letting Brian Kinney turn him into his latest, one-time conquest. "Debbie, please, just drop it, okay? It's just dinner, that's all. Please don't make it out to be any bigger than it is."

Debbie opened her mouth to reply but noted the pleading look on Justin's face and wisely chose to not question him any further. The sound of a car door slamming just then shifted their attention as both of them hurried toward the entrance, their hands clasping the doorknob at the same time as they peered through the sheer, lacy curtain of the half-glass door together to see Brian coming up the walk.

"Debbie..." Justin softly entreated as she thankfully nodded sheepishly and raised her hand in capitulation before stepping back a few feet to allow Justin to answer it. She was in a perfect position to see Brian's expression when he first laid eyes on his date for the night, though, as Justin opened the door and there was no hiding the appreciation she saw there. She watched as his eyes flickered to Justin's face, and then slowly down the rest of his body until he had gotten to his shoes and then repeated the languorous journey back up to his face again as Justin blushed.

"Hey," Brian greeted his date softly, a wisp of a smile on his face. He found that he was rendered practically speechless at the moment; he was used to see Justin under the glare of the recessed lighting of the dance studio where he was normally all business. Here, however, in the soft illumination of the home's interior, his golden hair and pale skin practically glowed under the attention, offsetting the dark red of the sweater perfectly. He fucking took his breath away, and it was a feeling Brian Kinney was not accustomed to experiencing. He cleared his throat nervously. "You ready to go?"

"Not before I take a picture..." Debbie suddenly sing-songed from her place nearby as Justin groaned. Brian peered over at their 'third wheel' in surprise; he hadn't even noticed her standing there since his attention had instantly been captivated by someone else. "What are YOU doing here?" he questioned.

Debbie huffed. "I live here, Disco Duck," she retorted as Justin giggled at the moniker. "Sunshine here is one of my tenants. I help him, he helps me. Now, both of you! Stand still until I can get my camera. Where the fuck did I put it?" she muttered absentmindedly as she wondered off toward the living room in search of its last-known hiding place, temporarily leaving the two alone for the first time since Brian had arrived.

"Now's our chance," Brian urged in a conspiratorial whisper as he reached out to grab Justin by the sleeve to escape.

Justin sighed. "No, I can't do that," he told him as he resisted. "She's been too nice to me, Brian. Just humor her for a few seconds, okay, and then we can leave." Secretly he was thrilled about the idea of a photo with Brian; ever since he had met him he had been dying to sketch him and this would give him a good basis upon which to start.

Brian rolled his eyes in barely-restrained patience as Debbie rushed back over with her camera hanging around her neck with a rainbow-colored lanyard. "Found it!" she cried out in triumph as she motioned with her free hand for them to move closer together. "He won't bite, Honey," she advised Justin with a grin as the two men's hips touched. "At least not with ME around," she added in a stage whisper, making Justin's face turn red in embarrassment again.

Brian felt a thrill of electricity erupt through his body as their hips touched and he instinctively curled his hand around Justin's shoulder to tug him against his waist. Just before Debbie snapped the shutter, he impetuously leaned down to nuzzle Justin's neck just as the flash went off right in time to capture the moment.

"That's a good one!" she cried out as she took a quick preview look at the finished product, not noticing that Justin's face had turned an ever darker shade of red. "Have a good time, boys!" she called out as they hurriedly turned to leave.

Now that they were actually departing, however, just the thought of being alone with Brian and having to converse with him one-on-one in such a private setting in his car filled Justin with trepidation. Would he come off as intelligent and well-spoken? Or would he make a total ass of himself instead? There was only one way to find out.

"Bye, Deb," he called out to her as he reached for the doorknob, observing his hand shaking slightly. "You don't need to wait up."

Debbie smirked over at her tenant and then winked. "Wouldn't think of it, Sunshine," she told him before her face sobered and she glared over at Brian. "And as for _you_! You take good care of him. And don't keep him out TOO late; you both have practice again tomorrow afternoon and he needs to be at the studio early for another lesson. I'm violating my non-fraternization rule as it is."

Justin cringed inside at her instructions, suddenly feeling like a little kid being allowed out on a school night.

"Yes, Ma'am," Brian told her dutifully to Justin's surprise, his lips curling under. "Ready?" he asked Justin who nodded, more than happy to leave. He felt Brian's arm lightly clasped around his waist as the two of them turned and headed back down the sidewalk toward the car.

Debbie pulled the gauzy curtain back to observe the two of them casually walking side by side toward Brian's car. "You go, Sunshine," she murmured affectionately before she turned to go round up her ice cream carton and spoon.


	9. First Date

_Five Minutes Later_

"So have you ever been to this place before?" Justin asked as he peered over at Brian in the car, trying to make polite conversation. He kept his hands clasped tightly together in his lap for fear Brian would know how nervous he felt. His thought his companion was even more devastatingly handsome tonight in form-fitting, skinny black jeans and a dark gray, cashmere sweater.

Brian shook his head; the restaurant, located a few blocks away in the gay district, was fairly new. "I've heard of it before, but I've never been there." A soft smile appeared on his lips as he glanced over at Justin and their eyes met. "Gus is always trying to drag me out to this other Italian restaurant - he loves their spaghetti and meatballs - but they have way too many carbs for my taste. Normally, I'm able to persuade him to go eat somewhere else where they have some healthier food as long as he can still find something fattening for himself."

Justin frowned, feeling a lump forming in his stomach. Who was Gus? A boyfriend? He had never even thought to wonder about that; if Brian didn't 'do' dates, he just naturally assumed that he didn't do boyfriends, either. Was he wrong about that, though? "Who's Gus?" he couldn't help inquiring after a few seconds, unable to stand it any longer.

His heart dropped as Brian's smile got even wider; was it true, then? Was he merely playing with him when he had a boyfriend all along? He was shocked, however, when Brian explained, "He's my son."

"Your...Your _son_?"

Brian nodded. "It's a long story," he began. "He spends most of his time with his two moms. Lindsay, the biological mother, is an old college friend of mine and asked if I would make the necessary donation to get her pregnant. She was inseminated, trust me," he explained as Justin studied him silently. "I don't swing both ways." That wasn't exactly true, he supposed; he and Lindsay DID do a little 'experimenting' back in their college days. But it had just been long enough for him to realize he had no interest whatsoever in pussy, so he didn't feel a need to elaborate.

Justin nodded, enormously relieved. "How old is he?"

Brian smiled. "He's three; and a ball of energy, too. Never stops from the time he gets up until he goes to bed; at least that's how he is when he's with me."

Justin stared over at his companion in amazement; when Brian spoke about his son, it was almost like he was a different person. "You spend a lot of time with him?"

"Not as much as I'd like to," Brian found himself revealing, surprised he would even tell Justin that. There was just something about him, though, that made him feel comfortable admitting things he would normally never confess. "But I take him for weekends quite a bit, and see him on his birthdays and go to his preschool plays. He's quite a little ham," Brian said with a grin as Justin smiled back at him. "Little fucker's good at getting whatever he wants, too, at least from his old man." He craned his neck to stare at a sign several hundred feet away. "Is that it?"

Justin followed Brian's gaze. "Looks like it," he confirmed as Brian nodded.

* * *

A couple minutes later, they had pulled into the restaurant's rather small parking lot and were poised to enter. Even though the building was only medium-sized, the number of cars in the lot indicated it was quite popular.

Holding the door open for Justin, Brian followed along directly behind him, noticing immediately the rather dim interior of the restaurant. As they walked up to the wooden hostess dais, they were able to discern the reason why: the interior was sprinkled with booths along the far walls and round tables in the center with each one nursing a lone candle stuck inside a squat, empty, webbed, wine bottle. The melted wax that ran down the sides of each makeshift candleholder was testimonial to them having been there for some time. Each empty table was set with a crisp, white, linen tablecloth, and red-and-white checkered napkins gathered through a polished, wooden napkin ring that sat on top. Crystal wine goblets and a lone, red rose in a bud vase situated in the middle of each table, along with a glass container of parmesan cheese, completed the setting. The entire room was traditional looking and blatantly romantic much to Brian's chagrin. He looked over at Justin just then, though, and noticed how enchanted he looked by the entire ambience, and he knew then there was no way he could back out now, even if he wanted to.

"Gentlemen?" the hostess politely urged them as she scooped up two menus and led them over to a corner booth; it was probably the most privately-situated seating in the entire room, and Brian wondered how he had gotten so lucky. He forced himself not to sit on the same side of the booth as his dining companion, however, although the thought was particularly appealing to him. For some unfathomable reason, though, rather than acting his normal, aggressive self, for once he actually wanted to take things more slowly. He did not want to scare Justin off just as he was starting to get to know him better.

Sliding across from his companion, then, he eyed him surreptitiously from the top of his menu as he asked seductively, "See anything you like, Justin?"

Justin swallowed as he pretended to study the menu intently; he thought he had heard an unspoken invitation in that question as he nodded. "Yeah, lots of things. I love chicken parmesan, but it says their specialty here is spaghetti with homemade meatballs. I think I'll get that instead."

Brian nodded as he kept his eyes trained on his own menu. "Hmm...You and my son have something in common besides me; I really like meaty balls, too," he commented huskily. "But I think I'll get the Caesar salad and the breadsticks instead." He smiled as he heard Justin snort from the other side of the booth. "Something wrong...Sunshine?" he asked with one brow raised innocently, using Debbie's nickname for him.

"No," Justin responded in kind. "I'm fine." He bit back a gasp, however, as he felt Brian's socked foot slowly sliding up his trouser leg; he quickly pulled his leg away from his pursuer's as he glared over at him. "Brian, what did I tell you?" he asked stiffly. "This is supposed to be a date, not a seduction."

Brian grinned over at him maddeningly. "Why can't it be both?" he wondered.

Justin sighed. "Brian, please..."

Brian reluctantly slid his foot back into his loafer. He placed his menu down on the table and held his hands up. "Okay...See? No touching."

Justin couldn't help guffawing softly at the innocent look on Brian's face. "It wasn't your _hands_ that were touching me," he pointed out as Brian grinned back at him. He shook his head in exasperation as their server walked up to take their orders; Justin was secretly relieved that it was a woman rather than a man. He thought he saw Brian smiling over at him smugly, almost as if the man knew exactly what he was thinking, before he gave the waitress his order and Brian did the same.

They chatted amiably for several minutes, the wine Brian had ordered serving to put them both at ease as they discussed a little bit of everything - the recent weather, the upcoming city council race, the local sports teams, the best cultural attractions, and good places to take an inquisitive, energetic three-year-old. Brian found himself captivated by Justin's wit, intelligence, and knowledge of current events; for someone so young, Brian felt like he could hold his own in any conversation. The time seemed to fly by as they were soon presented with their meals and their talking ceased while they sampled their dinners.

"Good?" Brian asked from across the table, entranced with how Justin was slowly slurping a piece of spaghetti into his mouth; his eyes darkened as he watched the tip of Justin's tongue snake out to swipe a small glop of marinara sauce off the corner of his mouth before he took his napkin and dabbed at the same spot. What he wouldn't have given to be the one taking care of that little problem!

Justin nodded. "Yeah, it's great!" he replied, not aware of how his self-cleaning practice had affected the other man. "How's yours?" he asked politely.

"It's fine, but apparently not nearly as intriguing as yours," Brian replied as Justin frowned slightly in confusion. Did this man not know what he was doing? Was it possible he didn't realize how damn sexy he was when he looked at him like that? And that smile; God, that smile made his heart stop with its intensity.

Justin held his fork out toward him, part of a meatball stabbed in its tines. "You want a bite?" he asked, his voice low and sensual.

Brian had to draw his hands into fists and dig his fingernails into the fleshy part of his palms to prevent a moan from escaping his lips. "No," he gritted out tersely as he picked his fork back up and stabbed a homemade, carb-laden crouton with overzealous gusto and plopped it into his mouth.

Justin nodded as he plopped the meatball into his mouth and slowly slid the fork back out between his lips before picking up his wine glass and taking a sip, eyeing Brian coquettishly from the top of the rim with a smile as Brian reached up to tug at the rounded collar of his sweater as if it were too tight. _Two can play this game, Mr. Kinney_, he had decided. He still wasn't ready to go to bed with the man - at least not yet, although fantasies of such an event were constantly running through his head now - but his ability to affect this confident, gorgeous, and powerful man with a mere gesture gave him a heady thrill.

Brian watched as Justin picked up a freshly-baked breadstick and opened his mouth into an "O" shape to plant his lips around it, emitting a blissful sort of 'hmm' noise as he ate a bite that suddenly made Brian's pants feel way too constrictive. _Little cock tease_, he couldn't help thinking as he glared over at him, receiving an innocent-looking smile in return. _You're not fooling me, Mr. Taylor; you know exactly what you're doing to me, don't you?_ He inhaled a deep breath and let it out as he squirmed in his seat. It was going to be a long evening and a major test of his willpower.

* * *

Their plates collected several minutes later, Brian surprised Justin by ordering a slice of tiramisu for him without being prompted, eliciting a delighted smile from him. As they were waiting for it and Brian's coffee to arrive, the strains of a violin began to filter through the room as the romantic ballad '_Fascination_' began to be played.

The gray-haired, tuxedoed, strolling violinist walked over to their table as Brian rolled his eyes at the outrageously romantic choice and Justin grinned back at him from across the table. Justin's face transformed into a look of astonishment, however, as Brian slid out from his seat and walked over to his side of the booth to hold his hand out toward him in invitation.

Justin stared wide-eyed at him for a few seconds before, with a shy-looking smile, he slid to the end of the vinyl seat and reached for Brian's hand. The moment their hands touched, he sucked in a breath in response as Brian pulled him toward his body and his hand went around the nape of his neck, Brian's other hand coming to rest at his waist.

"I need some more practice," he replied softly as they stood staring at each other; the clinking of silverware and the murmuring of voices faded into the background, overtaken by only each other as the soft melody continued to play and Justin finally nodded. Brian pulled him close to his body as they began to sway together. It was nothing like their dancing at the studio - there was far too little room for showing off even if they wanted to - but it didn't matter; all that mattered was the two of them, right now, right here as all pretenses of jocularity and witty repartee quickly faded into the background.

"You dance divinely, Mr. Taylor," Brian murmured as he gave Justin a slight smile; one that pierced straight into Justin's heart as he smiled back at him over the sappy comment. "Did anyone ever tell you that you should give lessons?" he teased.

"You're not so bad yourself," Justin softly replied as they continued to sway back and forth in time to the music.

The other couples nearby couldn't help stopping to stare openly at the handsome couple, some envious, but all easily aware of the obvious look of love in their eyes as they continued to dance, oblivious to everyone else.

Brian nodded in acknowledgment at the strolling violinist as the music slowly faded away; he slipped him a twenty as he stopped playing. Only the applause of everyone nearby jolted Justin from his almost dreamy state as Brian whispered, "I think the music's over, Sunshine."

Justin smiled at him sheepishly as they reluctantly broke apart, just in time for their coffee and dessert to be served.


	10. Kiss Me Goodnight

_An Hour Later - Debbie's House_

The two men were uncharacteristically quiet on the way home, a sense of both sadness as well as anticipation filling the car's interior. Sadness over having to soon end what had turned out to be a wonderful evening, but also anticipation about what every dating couple always fretted over - how they would part.

Justin shyly glanced over at Brian's profile, his strong chin softly illuminated by the glow of the car's interior; it was a moonless night, emphasizing the millions of stars above as well as the more manmade lights as they passed numerous streetlamps, neon signs, and interior lights from the myriad of apartments that lined the side streets.

Brian slowly pulled up to the curb opposite Debbie's house and turned off the motor. Justin could hear his soft breathing next to him as they turned to each other. "Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow afternoon, then," Brian stated, his heart betraying his attempt at appearing nonchalant as Justin's luminous blue eyes lifted to peer into his face.

Justin nodded as he went back into training mode. "4:00. And don't be late; we have a lot of practicing to do yet before next week." He couldn't believe that three weeks had passed already; soon they would be at the benefit, showcasing all of their hard work. He knew Brian had improved greatly since they had started; just how much only time - and their opponents - would tell.

Brian smirked. "Are you always this much of a perfectionist, Sunshine? In _everything_ you do?" he prodded, leaving no error as to what he was talking about.

Justin nodded. "When it means a lot to me I am."

Brian grinned over at him. "I can't wait to find out for myself." He stared into Justin's eyes a little longer before he advised, "Don't worry; I'll be there," as Justin licked his lips nervously and nodded again. He watched as Justin unlatched his seatbelt, a distinctive yearning blossoming in his belly to keep his companion from leaving as Justin turned to grasp the car handle to open it. "Justin..."

The blond twisted around to peer over at him. "Yes?" he asked softly, his own heart thumping in his chest.

"I just want you to know...I had a good time tonight. No, actually, I had a _great_ time tonight."

Justin bit his lip and gazed into Brian's eyes in an attempt to detect any duplicity, but to his astonishment he saw none. "You did?"

Brian nodded, one side of his mouth quirking up in realization. "Yeah. Fucking hard to believe, I know. But yeah...I did." In fact, Brian couldn't remember the last time he had enjoyed another man's company so much without fucking them at some point. Of course, eventually that would have to be rectified, because his evening with his beautiful teacher had only intensified his yearning to do just that. But he found to his surprise that he hadn't missed it quite as much as he thought he would.

Justin then smiled at him in pleasure, a blinding smile in the confines of the car that seemed to light up the entire interior as the two leaned closer to each other, their lips so close they could feel each other's breath on their faces. "Justin," Brian murmured in a whisper as he reached to grasp him by the neck to pull him even closer and their eyes fluttered closed - just before a car's headlights harshly illuminated them from behind and a horn honked cacophonously, startling them out of their solitude.

"You're blocking my driveway, you asshole! Move the damn car!" a booming man's voice called out.

Brian hissed at the intrusion. "Fuck!" he growled, the moment broken as he angrily turned the key in the ignition and moved the vehicle several feet ahead. He watched in the rearview mirror as the man turned his car into the driveway and used a remote to open the door to his two-car garage, pulling the car in and closing the door behind him, leaving him and Justin thankfully alone again in the quiet, still night. He turned back around with the intention of resuming where they had left off, only to see Justin opening the door and getting out. He watched in dismay as the blond leaned into the car and told him regretfully, "It's getting late and we both have to be up early tomorrow. I'd better go. Thanks again, Brian," he said softly as he started to close the door. "Good Night."

_Oh, no, you don't, _Brian insisted to himself as Justin walked around the back of the car to head toward Debbie's house. He had no sooner appeared on the other side of the car than Brian was already out of the car and standing next to him.

"Brian..."

"I'll walk you to the door," he volunteered, thinking how juvenile that sounded but knowing he just couldn't say goodbye yet. He HAD to taste those lips before he went stark, raving mad; it was all he could think about all night; well, that and getting Justin into bed, but he already knew that wasn't going to happen tonight. To his relief, Justin didn't laugh in his face; on the contrary, he accepted his statement without ridicule.

"That'd be nice," he told Brian, feeling like the other man surely could hear his heart thumping against his chest now. And when Brian held out his hand and he grasped it in return, he thought he would explode right then and there just from the feeling. How could one man's touch cause this sort of incredible reaction? Was it simply pheromones at work? Just straight out, physical attraction and lust? An emotion that would be quenched and then promptly abated once they had sex? No, he wouldn't believe that. If that was all that Brian was looking for, he would have never agreed to go out with him on a date, nor would he have told him what a great time he had had - would he?

Brian continued to hold Justin's hand as they walked across the street and headed up the sidewalk toward Debbie's front door, finding that he felt like some teenager coming home from a school dance, instead of the self-assured man he normally was. He finally let it go as they reached the door and they stood to face each other, the only light coming from a lone table lamp glowing softly from beside the couch inside.

"Well..." Justin stammered. _Very glib, Taylor_..."Thanks again."

Brian cleared his throat. "You're welcome. I guess I'll see you tomorrow afternoon, then..."

"Yeah...You'd better!" Justin warned him with a smile as Brian nodded.

They stood there for a few seconds in awkward silence before Brian shook his head in amazement. "What the fuck is wrong with me?"

_Nothing_, Justin thought silently as he gazed over at his handsome companion standing a few feet away. _Not one thing...If perfection had a middle name, it would be you... _"What?" he asked softly, his heart continuing to pound in anticipation.

"I...I've _never_ had this problem with another guy!" he snorted. "But with _you, _suddenly all the rules have changed..."

"I don't understand," Justin whispered, shuddering a little now as he caught a chill in the rapidly cooling night. He knew he would be warmer if he went inside, but he had no intention of doing that just yet.

As if reading his mind, Brian stepped forward and placed his hands on either side of Justin's face as Justin eyes slowly lifted to meet his; he could feel the heat against his skin as Brian's fingers slowly caressed him. "I can't believe this," Brian murmured, feeling like he was almost drowning in those luminescent, blue eyes that bored into his. His gaze slowly lowered to take in the plump, pink lips before he pulled Justin's face toward his and their lips finally met for the first time.

As he pressed his lips more firmly against Justin's mouth and he felt Justin's hands sliding around his back to pull them closer, Brian briefly thought it was just like he had imagined their first kiss would be - sensual, exploratory, probing, soft, warm; and it was. Only as they continued to kiss, he quickly decided it was much _more_ than that - it was more like the adrenaline rush you receive when you travel up that long, highest hill on the steepest roller coaster at the amusement park and then you experience that amazing rush when you plunge back down. His fingers dug into the tender flesh of Justin's jaw as he strove to deepen their kiss, insistently pressing his tongue against Justin's lips in a demand for entrance; he felt an initial resistance before the lips finally parted enough to allow his tongue to slip inside and a soft groan escaped from one of them.

Another sound, a sigh, erupted from Justin as if a dam had broken and his hands began to boldly explore as they roamed across the sinewy muscles of Brian's back; he had to hold onto something, _anything_, for support out of fear his legs would collapse underneath him while Brian continued to kiss him passionately. He had shared enough kisses in the past with other men, but _nothing_ like this; he felt dizzy and exhilarated, almost like he was about to fall off a cliff. He felt Brian's hands leave his face and travel down his shoulders and then around to the small of his back as he pressed their bodies even closer and his cock began to harden in response. He knew that if they didn't end this soon, his conviction to avoid one-night stands would promptly fly out the window. Just then he felt Brian's hands molding themselves possessively around the curves of his ass and his eyes flung open in surprise, his pulse racing faster than a thoroughbred's.

Brian felt the moment that Justin stiffened in his arms, and he knew he had gone too far. His theory was confirmed when Justin broke off their kiss, both of them panting softly as he pulled back just enough to look Brian in the eyes. _Fuck, _he couldn't help thinking as he gazed at Justin's flushed face, swollen, kiss-ravaged lips, and the darkened pupils. _He is so damn beautiful..._

"Justin..." He began; he wasn't even sure what he wanted to say. That kiss - and holding Justin in his arms so intimately - had rendered him almost mute. He had thought before that dancing with him had been phenomenal; he quickly found out that he had been completely wrong. This brought it up to a whole, new level.

"Brian," Justin breathlessly replied, his chest rhythmically heaving softly up and down. "It's getting late," he began again, hating like hell to say goodbye but knowing he had to. "I really have to go."

Brian brushed some hair back from his forehead with his hand in frustration as he reluctantly nodded. "Yeah...Okay. Me, too, I guess." He _did_ have an important meeting early in the morning with one of his major advertising accounts, so he knew it was crucial that he be on top of his game when he met with him. But fuck, he did not want to leave just yet.

Justin nodded as he turned to go, but Brian grabbed his arm. "Justin?"

He sighed; could Brian make this any harder on him? "Yeah?"

"I know another way to get my rocks off."

Justin frowned. "Huh?"

Brian grinned. "Ever been rock climbing?"

Justin stared at him in disbelief before he had to laugh softly at the unexpected question. "Noooo," he dragged out.

"Would you like to?"

"Brian, we have the weirdest conversations! What the hell are you talking about _now_?"

Brian shuffled a little nervously on his feet. "I just thought it might be an interesting thing to do the next time, that's all."

"The next time?" Justin repeated quietly, his heart skipping a beat. "Are you saying you want to go out on a second d...?"

Brian promptly placed his fingers across Justin's lips, wishing it were his mouth there instead. "What did I tell you about uttering that word?"

Justin smiled against his fingers as Brian removed them to grin over at him. "I didn't say a word," Justin replied dutifully. "But is that what you're saying?"

Brian stared at him for a few seconds before he finally nodded. "Yeah...That's what I'm saying. Tomorrow night, same time? There's a huge indoor gaming center across town that has one. Gus dragged me over there one day against my will so he could play on the trampoline and I wound up spending some time doing the rock climbing while he worked off some of his excess energy. It gave me quite a work out - if you give it a try, it might even improve your dancing - and maybe keep you limbered up for something _else_ later."

Justin blushed slightly, glad that Brian couldn't see the change in his skin tone in the soft lighting. "I'd like that," he answered softly.

Brian nodded, secretly ecstatic over Justin's response, but not willing to let him know that. "See you for practice tomorrow, then. Later."

Justin smiled. "Later," was the soft rejoinder as Brian finally headed down the steps of the front porch and out toward his car. Justin watched him go, waiting until Brian had pulled away and disappeared down the street before he finally ventured inside and climbed the steps to head to his room. A few minutes later, he was lying on his back in bed, clad in nothing but his briefs and trying desperately to fall asleep, but he knew sleep would be a challenge tonight; his mind was simply in too much of a whirl over his and Brian's date. And _yes_, it HAD been just that; a true, honest-to-goodness, _kiss-you-goodnight-at-the-door _date. He smiled as he touched his fingers to his mouth, remembering their kiss. God, what a kiss! Closing his eyes and anticipating seeing Brian again tomorrow, he finally fell asleep.


	11. Getting Ready to Compete

_Thursday Afternoon - One Day before the Benefit_

Debbie pounded the wooden stick she had in her hand against the hardwood floor a couple of times to get everyone's attention. When everyone in the main studio continued to talk and ignore her, however, she finally took two fingers between her lips and let out a bloodcurdling whistle, which immediately caused everyone to quiet down. She smirked, grateful for her Italian blood and her good lungs.

"Shit," she muttered to herself. "They're like a fucking kindergarten class." Raising her voice and addressing the six couples now lined up on chairs spread out on opposite sides of the spacious room, she told them, "Now listen up! This is the last day you can practice your dance routines for tomorrow night. Make sure you take advantage of it." She slowly swept her gaze around the room, studying how solemn the participants all looked as they sat in pairs next to their instructors. It had been a hectic, sometimes frantic and arduous four weeks while her employees tried to whip these amateurs into shape, but she had to admit - they had all taken their tasks seriously and each pair could be a genuine contender for the trophy and prize money being awarded tomorrow night. Her gaze settled briefly on two pairs in particular who she saw as the strongest potential winners: the graceful athlete, Drew Boyd, and his dancing partner, Kenny Meyers, along with her personal favorite, Justin, and his enigmatic pupil known as Brian Kinney.

She had watched over the past week as her tenant and Kinney had gone out each evening after their dance practice for - she could just now even speak the word to herself - _dates_. She would have never in a million years figured Brian Kinney as the 'dating' type - she had seen plenty of his kind before; the type that knew how handsome they were and played it for all it was worth, the 'fuck-'em-and-leave'-em' type. The type that did not care for entanglements and simply existed to assuage their pleasure, however and wherever they liked. But apparently she had been wrong about this one, at least when it came to her youngest instructor. It had been written all over Justin's face the next morning when he had come down the staircase with a spring in his step and a smile that had rivaled the Empire State Building lit up at night.

She had already known what time he had come home that first night - she had heard Crazy Man Wilkins, as everyone in the neighborhood called him, screaming for someone to move their car around 1:30 a.m., and she had known instinctively who he was yelling at. She had walked over to her bedroom window facing out onto the street, just in time to see two shadowy figures - one tall, one slender and shorter - walking hand in hand toward her front door. Smiling at the romantic gesture, she had heard Justin opening the door several minutes later and then climbing up the steps to his room. Not able to resist cracking her bedroom door open a few inches to make sure he was alone (somewhat surprised to find that he was), she had quietly closed her door behind her, not wanting Justin to think she had been spying on him.

The next morning, her tenant had come bounding down the steps in response to her call to him that breakfast was ready; his eyes alit with a radiance she had never seen before. And while he had not been overly generous in describing his date with his pupil - even blushing at some point when Debbie asked him about whether or not they would be going out again - she could tell by the animation in his voice and the way that his face almost glowed that he had had a glorious time.

She had initially been concerned that Brian might be toying with Justin like a cat does with a mouse in an attempt to merely get into his pants, but as the next few days went by and Brian religiously came to the door each evening to pick Justin up, the look on his face began to take on the same expression that Justin wore - one of tenderness, fascination, and even adoration, despite the older man's attempts to disguise it when Justin was looking. She could still see it, though, whenever Justin turned around to pick up his keys and Brian's eyes followed his every move, and in the way that Brian helped him with his coat or lightly held his hand protectively at Justin's waist as they turned to leave.

Now as she peered over at the two of them, their bodies turned at an angle so their knees were lightly touching, she wondered how much of that mutual attraction would transfer onto the dance floor tomorrow night when they finally had a chance to dance in front of a crowd. Something told her that they would capture everyone's attention immediately and would definitely be the couple to beat, a fact that couldn't make her happier. As the owner of the studio, she was supposed to remain impartial, and to everyone there she appeared to be just that. Silently, though, she couldn't help hoping that Justin would ultimately come out the winner and go home with the prize money so he could fulfill one of his biggest dreams - obtain enough money to go to art school. She knew it wouldn't pay for it entirely - she had already assured Justin that he could continue to work at least part time at her studio to supplement his tuition - but it would at least allow him to start taking classes there.

She pounded the stick down onto the hardwood floor when the voices started up again. "Okay! Get to work! And remember - you all need to be at the auditorium tomorrow night no later than 6:30 p.m. sharp! Now get your asses in gear and get to it!"

She watched as everyone rose to their feet and wandered off toward the private studio rooms; everyone, that is, except for one of the contestants - the one known as Marilyn - who lingered behind and stared over at her intently.

"Yeah?" Debbie asked, one eyebrow arched in question.

"It's not going to happen," Marilyn told her bluntly. "But don't worry; he'll still come out a winner."

Debbie furrowed her brow; this one had been an odd cookie ever since she had shown up that first day, constantly making these cryptic, crystal-ball-type comments whenever they spoke. But this one was the strangest of them all.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Debbie groused as the woman's dance partner fidgeted nearly, clearly anxious to get on with the last dance rehearsal.

Marilyn smiled mysteriously. "You'll see. And you'll be partly responsible for it, too." Nodding briefly, she turned and walked toward the door leading to the private studios, leaving Debbie shaking her head as she watched her go.


	12. Last Rehearsal

_Fifteen Minutes Later_

"Ouch! Justin!"

Justin bit his lip contritely as he stepped back from landing on Brian's toes. "Shit, I'm sorry," he mumbled self-consciously as Brian immediately stopped their waltz, wrapping his arms around Justin's waist to hold him stationary.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked softly. "I thought that was MY job," he teased, but he didn't get the smile he had been hoping to see. He frowned; Justin was always such a consummate teacher and so meticulous in his instructions that this was not like him at all. "Justin?" he prodded as the blue eyes lifted to meet his. "What is going on? Huh?"

Justin sighed. "I'm sorry," he repeated. He finally bestowed a small smile on him. "I guess my nerves are starting to get the better of me."

Brian kept one hand around Justin's waist as he used his other to cup his partner's cheek tenderly; he slowly caressed the skin with his fingers as he replied softly in disbelief, "You? You don't seem like the kind to get butterflies."

_If you only knew_, Justin thought, thinking about how he feels every time Brian comes to pick him up for a date and how his body reacts every time they touch; even though he was feeling more comfortable being with Brian now - and was enjoying their time immensely - he still had this fluttering feeling in the pit of his stomach every time Brian came to call for him. He wasn't quite sure what to call this feeling yet - but he _did_ know that Brian made him feel things he had never felt before with any other man and that he looked forward to each and every moment they spent together. He was also wondering what would happen AFTER the contest was over; would their own personal 'dance' be over, too, especially since he had managed to stick by his conviction not to have sex with him yet? He didn't have the courage to divulge those concerns to Brian, though, so he decided to keep it strictly professional when he replied.

He shrugged. "I always get this way just before it's time for me to perform in front of a live crowd, no matter how many times I do it," he explained.

"You have nothing to be nervous about," Brian assured him affectionately, his heated gaze making Justin's face flush. "You're an incredible dancer." He lifted one corner of his mouth up in amusement. "Maybe just in case, though, I'll wear MY boots tomorrow."

He was rewarded finally with a slight smile as Justin reminded him, "Boots won't exactly go with our costumes."

Brian grimaced. "Don't remind me; if I'd have known that we would have to wear dance costumes like some fag trick-or-treaters, I would have never agreed to that fucking bet in the first place."

Brian had told Justin that first day why he was participating, and what had been the cause of it. It explained a great deal about why someone like Brian would even feel the need to participate in something so public as a dance contest; in fact, the more he got to know him, the more Justin realized that it would probably be the ONLY reason why he would do it, that and the fact that he always kept his word. But when he had found out a couple of weeks ago that they would have to wear dance costumes as part of the contest, also, Brian had almost bowed out, bet or no bet.

Brian remembered the day well, though, when Justin had walked into their private studio room modeling the costume that he would be wearing the night of the benefit; it turned out that Debbie, besides being the owner of the studio, was also an expert seamstress, and to save her business money, she was constantly coming up with costumes the dancers could wear for performances. Instead of picking out one of the myriad costumes that she already had hanging on a rack in the rear of the studio, however, she had decided to make a new one for Justin. Unbeknownst to Brian, she had used Justin's measurements to create one for the quick step that fitted him like a glove and left nothing to the imagination. It was a solid black, long-sleeved, one-piece jumpsuit made of satin with a plunging V-neck that exposed several inches of his skin and complimented his complexion perfectly. The entire outfit looked like it had been glued on, and tantalizingly curved around each part of Justin's body, displaying his delectable ass and what appeared to be a generously-sized cock held in place in the front. Brian's eyes had swept over every centimeter as Justin had promptly blushed, a feature that he secretly found so endearing in its humility.

Once Brian had seen his own outfit for the faster-tempo dance - a navy-blue, flowing, satin shirt, also with a plunging V-neckline, and a pair of black leather pants with black, polished dancing shoes - and had noticed how Justin's eyes had darkened in appreciation and desire as he had strutted his stuff in front of him, he had finally decided that perhaps playing dress-up had its advantages and he had changed his mind. The other outfit for their waltz - two matching pairs of black tuxes with white, open-collar, silk shirts and the same black, polished shoes - weren't nearly as ostentatious, and could even be worn to other events, so that one took less convincing. Justin looked stunning in both outfits, however, and it was all Brian could do not to eye-fuck him right then and there while he paraded around in them, his libido promptly going into overdrive and making him question how he had gone all this time without going out of his mind with desire for him.

Somewhere along the line, though, his intense craving to be with Justin in every sense of the word had been transformed into something different; oh, he still wanted nothing more than to intimately map every inch of Justin's body; but there was another emotion that he was experiencing that he suspected he recognized, but refused to acknowledge yet: love. But what else would explain why he would agree to continue seeing Justin every afternoon for practice and going out on fucking _dates_ with the man if he wasn't - gulp - _in love_? Was it possible? He had never been in love - sure, he loved Gus deeply, but he had never been IN love with another man; not with someone he could actually imagine being with all the time. But he had found as he and Justin had spent more and more time together, he felt so comfortable being with him, so amazed by him, so proud of him. And he knew when he wasn't with him, that he constantly thought about him to the point where he actually started daydreaming about the next time they would be together, even zoning out while sitting at his desk working on his next campaign. WAS he in love with this incredible man, then? All he knew - or agreed to acknowledge - was that he wanted to find out, and whatever happened tomorrow, he wanted to keep seeing him as long as Justin felt the same way.

Justin grinned up at him. "Maybe not," he agreed in response to Brian's statement as the brunet returned to the present. "But I'm glad you did, because you look fucking hot in both of them."

Brian leaned in to kiss Justin on the lips briefly as he pulled back to gaze down into the sky-blue eyes, surprised that he didn't immediately respond with some sort of typical, smug statement like "I know." Instead, he replied, "You looked pretty hot yourself, you know." Gratified to see Justin's smile back on his face, he stroked his fingers over his partner's cheek before Justin whispered, "Thanks."

"For what?" Brian asked, his fingers stilling their motion as he stared down into Justin's face which appeared more relaxed now.

"For trying to make me feel better. For just being _you._" Justin reached up to clasp Brian's hand in his. "I'm ready to practice some more now. We're going to leave them in the dust tomorrow and we're going to win this thing."

"Of course," Brian agreed instantly as they brought their hands up to the standard dancing position out from their bodies. "There was never any question of that. The only real question is - who will get to keep the trophy?"

Justin laughed as they began to smoothly glide around the room, his previous worries temporarily forgotten.


	13. May the Best Man Win

_Next Morning - Diner_

"Well, look who showed up - the loser," Brian dryly commented as he sipped some black coffee from his china mug at the counter.

"I was about to say the same thing," Emmett retorted as he slid onto the empty seat next to him. "And I can't wait to go down there and watch YOU go down - finally."

Brian smirked at the double entendre as he snorted. "In your dreams, Honeycutt - Justin and I have this in the bag."

"Justin?" Emmett asked curiously as he played with a straw, trying hard to sound uninterested and unconcerned, but secretly wondering if Brian had an authentic reason to sound so sure of himself or if he was just being his same, old, arrogant self. He thought he heard a distinctive tone of pride in Brian's voice this time, however, that wasn't normally there.

"He's my dancing instructor - and he's damn good at it, too," Brian explained. "Trust me - your boy will be the one going down, NOT me." He smirked. "What a shame he won't be going down on YOU. I guess you'll just have to worship his cock from afar."

Emmett opened his mouth to immediately correct his conceited friend, but instantly thought better of it. He would derive immense satisfaction from correcting Brian - in reality, he knew from personal experience that Drew could definitely keep up with the best of the cocksuckers in his opinion - but if he told Brian that, he would _also_ know that he knew all along about Drew's sexuality and had entered into their bet deceptively. The only thing worse than Brian making fun of him was Brian on a vengeful rampage after feeling like he had been misled. No, if he wanted to _continue_ enjoying Drew's 'attention' - and stay in one piece - it was best he keep his mouth shut for now.

"Well, I guess we'll find out tonight," he commented as he hurriedly caught the attention of the waiter to order his favorite - pecan pancakes. "May the best man win."

"Oh, he will, Honeycutt," Brian deadpanned as he threw a $10 bill down on the counter and to Emmett's relief rose from his stool; he patted Emmett's shirt sleeve patronizingly as Emmett glared up at him. "He will." Smirking once more in conviction, Brian gathered up his keys and turned to leave.


	14. Shall We Dance?

_Plunkett Civic Center - Downtown Pittsburgh - 7:15 p.m._

Debbie pulled back the heavy, maroon velour curtain at the side of the backstage area to peer out at the packed audience sitting in their seats that encircled the dancing arena; the entire room was abuzz with a hum of excitement as everyone waited impatiently for the start of the benefit. Some were fanning themselves with their programs in the surprising humidity, others were scooting sideways toward the mid-row seats to take a seat, while others were murmuring animatedly to themselves. It was a varied patchwork of culture - some dressed in fancy duds, some in casual wear; others obvious drag queens adorned in their glittering spandex and outrageously high, curly wigs and heavy makeup. She was elated at the turnout, however; she knew the packed auditorium would mean a lot of money being funneled into Vic's House, a fact that made her extremely pleased.

"How's it looking, Debbie?" Ben, the emcee, asked her; as a gay male with HIV, as well as her son's partner, he seemed the perfect choice to be the host for the evening's activities. "Good crowd?"

Debbie nodded as she closed the curtain back and turned to face him with a huge smile on her face. "Good? It's fucking _incredible!" _she raved as Ben nodded back at her. "Not a vacant seat in the place!"

"That's great!" he exclaimed, happy for her and for Michael; he knew how much this event meant to both of them. "I'm sure Michael wished he could be here tonight."

Debbie nodded. "I know. But I always taught him to be responsible to his obligations, and he couldn't have known it would turn out to be the same day as the fantasy and sci fi convention."

Ben nodded; Michael would have moved heaven and earth to be here; but the convention, being held in Cleveland, was the Midwest's premier event, and it had cost him hundreds of dollars in exhibition fees to be a part of it. With his mother's and Ben's reassurance that Vic would understand, he had finally decided to honor his obligation and attend the weekend event, but only after promising to commit 25% of his total profits toward the Vic Grassi House.

"Well, I'll make sure to tell him what a big success it was when I talk to him later tonight," Ben informed her as he walked up to her. "Are all the contestants here now?"

Debbie nodded; she had done a count herself about fifteen minutes ago, and had determined that all twelve participants were here and quickly getting into costume for the first number - the quick step. "Yeah. The first pair is dressed and ready to go. I'm about to go check on all the others, though." Her eyes lit up with excitement. "It's going to mean so much to Vic's House, Ben! Isn't it wonderful?" For once, she didn't feel that heavy weight in her stomach, that guilt she had been carrying around for so long about not being here when Vic died. Tonight, she felt nothing but satisfaction over the fact that she could do so much good for the men currently residing there.

"Yes, Debbie, it's great," Ben agreed as he clamped his hand on her shoulder. "It truly is."

She nodded. "You look great yourself, Honey," she complimented him on his dapper appearance in traditional black tux, white shirt and black tie. "Thanks for doing this tonight."

Ben smiled at her affectionately. "Anytime, Deb; I was happy to do it. Now if you'll excuse me, I'd better get ready for the show."

She nodded before rushing off to check on everyone participating. It was going to be a magical night.

* * *

"Brian, come and help me get this damn outfit zipped up," Justin groused from inside the closed door of the bathroom; Brian had found it quite amusing a few minutes ago when Justin had modestly decided to get dressed in the adjacent bathroom, away from his prying eyes. He had found it both charming as well as incredibly nerve-wracking to think about a naked Justin just a few feet away, but never one to go back on his word he had gritted his teeth and remained in the other room as Justin had shimmied into his tight-fitting outfit.

"I'm coming," Brian called out; smirking at the irony. _If only..._He knocked on the door a couple of times, getting a 'come on in' reply from Justin as he turned the doorknob to enter.

Justin turned around as Brian entered and his mouth fell open as he observed Brian only half-dressed in his costume; thankfully, though, the man's lower region was covered. It didn't hide the prominent bulge, however, that was hidden beneath the tight fabric as he gazed at Justin appreciatively and whistled. "Very hot," he raved, his voice husky with desire as Justin blushed.

"I...I thought you were already dressed," he sputtered out, unable to take his eyes away from the bare, bronze-colored skin of Brian's toned chest. Brian had to be the most glorious man he had ever seen, including even Drew Boyd. Oh, Boyd was handsome, rugged, and very muscular - that much was certain - but he didn't convey the same confidence, swagger, and just outright sex appeal that Brian did. And the more they were together, the more Justin was learning about this complex man who was not exactly as he appeared. In fact, he was coming to the realization that he was falling in love with Brian. The thought both terrified and excited him, because after tonight he had no idea where they would stand. Would Brian expect him to put out now that the dance was over? And once he did - and God knows it was all he could think about anymore - would he just dump him and move onto the next conquest? Only time would tell. For now, however, all he could think about was getting through the next several hours and hopefully winning the competition so he would be able to start attending PIFA. He had to concentrate on that. After it was over, though, he and Brian needed to have an important talk.

"I'm dressed enough," Brian replied in a velvety tone of voice as he smirked at Justin's reaction. "Let me see what I can do with the zipper," he implored softly as Justin nodded and turned his back to him. He flinched slightly at Brian's warm fingers whispering over his skin as he felt the other man trying to pull the zipper up near the small of his back. He shivered even more, however, as Brian began to slowly pull the zipper upward and whispered hotly in his ear, "This isn't exactly the direction I would have preferred to take this. You look incredible, but I can't wait to see you _out_ of this outfit." His job done, he pressed his back against Justin's and, wrapping his arms tightly around to link them at the other man's waist, he nuzzled the tender flesh of his partner's neck as Justin groaned softly.

"Brian..." he whispered pleadingly as he reached back to brush the back of his hand against his dancing partner's cheek. "You need to finish getting dressed, too; we go on right after Drew and Kenny." _God, yes,_ Justin thought desperately as his heart pounded in reaction, _hurry_. _The sooner, the better._

He could feel Brian's hard-on pressing against his ass as he closed his eyes with desire. He decided the man was deliberately torturing him, and it was definitely working. If Brian could get him to react this way with both of them dressed - well, _almost_ dressed in Brian's case - he could only imagine what it would feel like to have bare skin on bare skin in the throes of passion. _Shit_. He HAD to get his emotions under control, or he would humiliate himself on the dance floor; not to mention that he wouldn't be able to concentrate at all.

Finally finding the courage, then, to pull away from his partner, he turned to face him, glaring at the all-knowing expression on Brian's face. "PLEASE finish getting dressed, Brian!" he urged as Brian grinned back at him evilly. "You are incorrigible!" he retorted as he stepped backwards to clear some space between them.

Brian's grin only became wider as he finally turned around and advised, "I need help with MY zipper, too, Sunshine."

"I'll go get Debbie, then," Justin replied, only half kidding as he hurried toward the door; he didn't quite get there, however, as a muscular hand wrapped itself around Justin's wrist and yanked him over to his side. "I think you can handle it just fine," he said innocently as he quirked one eyebrow up.

Justin sighed in resignation. "Turn around," he ordered him. "And NO funny stuff."

"Wouldn't think of it," Brian quipped as he felt Justin's fingers at the cleft of his back; how he wished at that moment that somehow the zipper would stick, but the damn thing rebelled as Justin easily slid it up his back and stopped at his neckline. Turning around, he pulled Justin closer by holding onto his upper arms.

"Brian, the music's starting..."

"You don't expect me to go out there in this spandex nightmare without a good luck kiss first?" he asked. "It's common practice before a dance competition."

Justin huffed. "It IS not."

Brian grinned as he pulled him even closer so their bodies were flush against each other. "It is now," he told him huskily, his smile fading into something more intense as his lips gently pressed against his instructor's. It didn't take long for the old familiarity to encompass them as Brian's tongue swept inside and deepened the kiss and Justin's arms wound around his neck to bring them even closer.

Only a loud knocking on their door a minute later caused them to break off the kiss as Debbie yelled, "You're up in five minutes! Shake a leg, boys!"

"We're coming, Deb!" Justin called out as Brian gave him one additional, quick peck on the lips before releasing him.

"You look fabulous, Justin," he whispered to his teacher with a smile. Reaching to take his hand, he told him, "Now let's go knock them dead."

Justin nodded with a smile of his own as the two of them strode hand-in-hand toward the door.


	15. First Round

Merely by a stroke of luck, the two favored couples to win were scheduled to dance first and second; then, from the first round of contestants and based on the judges' scores, three of the pairs would be invited back to perform their second dance, the waltz.

Brian and Justin watched from the sidelines as Drew and his partner, Kenny, were introduced first by their emcee, Ben, and walked out on stage to be greeted with boisterous applause, whistles, and shouts of appreciation from the audience. Brian had to admit as he looked at Drew's outfit that the guy was definitely built well; and the silvery, one-piece outfit he was wearing showcased his best features. The man had massive thighs, a trim waist, an impressive package, and green eyes that seemed to make everyone in the audience swoon; he even noticed Honeycutt in the first row, clapping enthusiastically at the man as he jiggled up and down in his seat in barely-controlled glee.

Brian couldn't help shaking his head in disgust, thinking how much of a spectacle he was making; there was no way that Drew Boyd would ever be interested in such a nelly queen as Emmett. He and Justin watched as the two men waited for the music to start playing before they began their routine.

It was executed flawlessly, both of the dancers having pasted on a broad smile as they floated around the room rapidly in time to the music. Apparently it was true that athletes made some of the best dancers, because Brian had to grudgingly confess that Boyd seemed very apt for the role.

As if reading his mind, Justin whispered anxiously, "He's really good. He and Kenny make a great couple."

"Yeah," Brian admitted. He turned to bestow a reassuring smile on his partner's face, however, as he added, "But they're still not as good as we're going to be, are they?"

Justin smiled back at him. "No, they're not," he said firmly. "They're good; but we're going to be fantastic together."

"We already are," Brian replied as he took Justin in his arms. "And we're going to fucking win, because I have the best teacher." He leaned down to give Justin a quick kiss on the lips just as the music died and the crowd erupted into appreciative applause. "I think that's our cue," Brian told Justin as they broke apart. "It's our turn now."

Justin nodded as they watched Drew and Kenny take a bow together and leave the stage hand-in-hand, both sweaty and panting heavily from their 3 ½ minute routine. "Amateurs," Brian commented within earshot as they hurried by, producing a laugh from Justin just like he had hoped. Brian's face sobered somewhat, however, as he realized that this was it; in a few seconds, he would have to walk out onto that polished, wooden floor in a flamboyant, ridiculously tight outfit and prance around like some fag queen.

His hand reached to squeeze Justin's tightly, so tightly that Justin turned to look at him in concern. "Brian, you okay?"

Brian swallowed before nodding. "Yeah. It's just that..."

"...You're a little nervous."

"There're a lot of people out there, Justin," he murmured in awe as they gazed out at the attentive audience that had just watched Drew and Kenny perform.

Justin smiled at Brian's comment, instantly recognizing the expression on his face. It was the same one HE used to wear when he first started out. Being on display - especially in such a revealing outfit - would give even the most confident of men stage fright. But he was secure enough by now in Brian's abilities to know that he had nothing to be afraid of. "Brian, just breathe," he coached him. "Take deep breaths and keep holding my hand. You're going to do just fine; MORE than fine. We're going to be spectacular together. Don't look at anyone else; just keep looking at me and remembering what you learned. And SMILE! Okay?"

Brian nodded as he turned to stare into Justin's eyes; the determined look on his face instantly made him calmer. "Okay, if I can breathe in this thing," he grumbled. "But I still don't work best in spandex."

Justin laughed as Ben began to introduce them. "Brian, you look best in anything," he told his dancing partner sincerely.

"Even in my birthday suit?" was the saucy reply.

Justin groaned. "Don't go there, Brian," as his partner pushed his tongue into the corner of his cheek and grinned back at him.

The two of them each took a deep breath in an effort to calm themselves before Justin said, "Come on, we can do this. Remember what I said," he reminded him as, of one accord, they walked out behind the curtain and over to the center of the stage, big, regal smiles on their faces that belied the butterflies in their stomachs.

The first thing Brian noticed after the applause died down were the rows of hot, blinding lights shining down on them from the ceiling; the second thing he noticed was how quiet the room became as they stood there facing each other, waiting for the music to begin. It seemed to take an eternity for the music to start, but Brian knew that realistically it was only a few seconds. He gazed into Justin's eyes, taking comfort and strength from the expression of confidence on his teacher's face, just before the music finally began and they begin to move almost automatically across the dance floor in each other's arms, just like they had done so many times before in rehearsal.

They made a striking couple as they danced quickly around the perimeter of the hardwood floor, their stark differences in looks and stature making for a dramatic picture. Justin didn't have to remind Brian to keep a smile on his face while they danced; all he had to do was smile back at him and it was like an infectious disease. The two locked gazes and didn't look anywhere else.

For Brian, that wasn't hard to do, because to him it was like no one else was in the room. There weren't hundreds of faces peering admiringly at them, not a bank of lights glaring down at them; not even a sound system blaring out the song that they had chosen to use for their performance. Right then, it was just him and Justin as he held him in his arms and they stepped in perfect synchrony across the floor in time to the fast tempo.

The time was over before they knew it; as soon as they stopped, the audience erupted into a round of boisterous applause, some of them even rising impetuously to reward them with a standing ovation for their efforts. Justin beamed in gratitude as he turned to flash a smile at Brian, who returned it warmly as they clasped hands and faced the audience. They bowed gracefully as one before turning to hurry off the stage so the next pair could compete.

Brian twirled Justin around jubilantly in relief as soon as they were off-stage. "We were fucking brilliant!" he exclaimed as Justin put his fingers over his lips in an admonition for him to keep his voice down, although with the loud music now erupting for the next contestants the crowd couldn't possibly hear him.

He was swept up into Brian's arms as he gave him a tight hug. "What a rush!" he heard Brian murmur against his neck before he pulled back just enough to look into Brian's eyes and was rewarded with a passionate kiss.

A clearing of someone's throat nearby caused them to break off their kiss and turn, cheek-to-cheek, to peer into a pair of amused, blue eyes. "Celebrating a little early, boys?" Debbie asked, noticing how closely Brian was holding onto his teacher. "You have to get into the finals first, remember." Although, to Debbie it was a forgone conclusion; after that performance, unless the rest of the contestants were positively dazzling, there was no way this particular pair could not be chosen to advance to the next phase.

Brian pulled away reluctantly from Justin, just now aware of how demonstrative he was being, as he began to smooth down his outfit. "We will be," he told Debbie confidently as he placed his hand around Justin's shoulder.

She smiled. "Well, if confidence is one of the factors they'll be judging, you're right," she replied. "But let's wait until everyone's danced and we see the judges' scoring. Better go take a short break so you'll be ready to go for the next round - of dancing, I mean," she said with a wink as Justin blushed at the insinuation.

As soon as Debbie was out of earshot, Brian pulled Justin closer to his side and whispered hotly in his ear, "I could use a shower; I'm all sweaty and stinky now. Join me?"

The seductive tone of Brian's voice went straight to Justin's cock, and with the constrictive fabric it was apparent to everyone else as well who might be observing them. "Brian..." he murmured in embarrassment as his pupil twisted him around and wrapped his arms around Justin's back.

Justin could feel Brian's hard-on pressing against his belly as he admitted, "That's very tempting." Brian's mouth broke into a pleased smile until Justin added regretfully, "But it's not a good idea right now."

Brian groaned in frustration. Why he was willing to put up with this constant sexual tension was beyond him; any other time he would have promptly moved onto the next target if he kept getting rebuffed. But he couldn't do that; it seems that this particular man had taken up permanent residence in his heart. "Justin, you're fucking killing me here," he confessed as the blue eyes lifted to meet his.

Justin reached up to caress the soft, auburn hair at the back of Brian's neck. "Brian, we have to concentrate on the next dance; I can't do that if...If I'm distracted by something else - no matter _how_ much I want to."

Brian's eyes widened as Justin opened his mouth to finally explain what he was feeling in his heart, only to be interrupted by Debbie.

"What did I tell you two?" she called over to them in exasperation, her hands on her hips. "Get a move on, Justin! You and Brian only have about fifteen minutes before the second round begins!" The twinkle in her eyes betrayed the curt expression on her face, though, as the two men hurried off to get changed.

"Everything okay, Deb?" Ben asked as he walked up to join her, some programmed music playing overhead while the audience enjoyed a 15-minute intermission before the first-round winners were announced. He placed his hand on her shoulder as she nodded, watching Brian and Justin disappearing around the corner toward their dressing room.

"Yeah, Ben," she said with a soft smile, noting how Brian kept his hand lightly around Justin's waist. "I think everything's going just fine."


	16. Misstep

"Brian," Justin laughed as his pupil began to attack him the moment they entered their dressing room and he closed the door; it was as if them doing so well in the first round had served as some sort of aphrodisiac, because the man couldn't seem to keep his hands - or lips - off him. "I thought you...You wanted to take a shower," he managed to sputter out as Brian's mouth bestowed a rapid-fire series of kisses on his neck, jaw, and chin before settling firmly on his mouth. He moaned at the desire flaring up inside him as Brian sealed his mouth over his and turned his head to kiss him deeply, his tongue pressing inside to swab the moist sweetness.

Justin had to forcefully push Brian back with his hands pressing on his chest to get him to stop a minute later. "Go take your shower; I have got to get dressed!"

Brian left out a heavy sigh; as soon as this competition was over, come hell or high water, he was going to finish what they had started. He had never waited so long to fuck another man in his life, and this one in particular made him horny as hell. "Yeah, okay," he reluctantly agreed. "I definitely need one; a nice, COLD shower."

Justin grinned, impetuously giving Brian a quick peck on the lips as he shoved him toward the bathroom. "Go," he repeated. "I can't wait to see you in your tux."

"And I can't wait to see you OUT of yours," Brian grumbled, but nevertheless he walked over to grab his other dance outfit from a hook hanging on the back of the dressing room door and dutifully ambled over to the bathroom; he gave Justin one last, longing look before he turned and walked inside, closing the door behind him.

Several seconds later, Justin could hear the water running and he let out a sigh of relief. Shit, he wanted nothing more than to finally consummate their relationship - just as much as Brian apparently did - but now was not the time, not in the middle of what might be the most important night of his life. But once this night was over - maybe even tonight - whether it would mean the end of seeing Brian anymore or not, he intended to rectify that problem, once and for all.

A few minutes later, Brian emerged completely dressed this time, his hair still unruly and sticking out rebelliously in all directions in a 'bad boy' sort of way. Justin's breath caught in his throat; he was simply glorious-looking. "Brian...You, you look amazing," he finally raved softly. "Debbie did a wonderful job tailoring that outfit; it looks perfect on you."

Brian smiled, a sincere expression of gratitude as he walked up to eye Justin studiously. "I'm not the _only_ one," he replied as he walked slowly around his dancing partner to get a good look from every angle. In his tux, Justin looked a few years older, but he was absolutely beautiful. The tux curved around each part of his body and fit him perfectly. He came to a stop facing him as the back of his hand lightly raked down the open neck of Justin's white silk shirt; the skin was so smooth under his touch. "You look incredible, Justin," he complimented him softly as the silky, golden lashes lifted to meet his eyes. "I can't wait to waltz with you and show you off."

Justin blushed deeply at Brian's words that were spoken so sincerely. "Me, too," he whispered as Brian's hands slid up his chest to rest on his shoulders and they came together for another kiss. A loud dinging noise that sounded a few seconds later, however, made them separate as they heard an announcement that the first-round winners were about to be revealed.

"Fuck!" Brian growled in frustration as Justin giggled. "It's NOT funny, Justin; do you know I've been sporting a boner for days now, thanks to you?"

Justin pulled Brian into his arms as he whispered in his ear, "I think that's the best compliment anyone's ever given me." He could still feel Brian's hard-on pressing against him as Brian wound his arms around his back and held him close.

Brian grunted as they separated. "Well, you can return the favor by flattering ME later."

Justin grinned at him as he took him by the hand and began to tug him toward the dressing room door, buoyed by that promising statement. "Come on, let's go see if we advanced to the second round; I can't wait to find out!"

Brian sighed in resignation but followed nevertheless, wondering how much more a red-blooded, American gay male could stand. Secretly, though, he didn't mind waiting just a little longer if he could show Justin off to the crowd in his outfit as he followed him out of the dressing room, mourning the lack of a good view of Justin's ass in his black, satin pants, currently hidden by the coat of his tux. AFTER they were done tonight, though - and after he had a chance to revel in his and Justin's victory and gloat in front of Emmett - THEN the two of them would finally have a chance to do what he had been longing to do ever since he had first laid eyes on his beautiful, stubborn teacher. _Tonight, I'm going to teach YOU, Justin Taylor. I'm going to teach you what days of longing and deprivation do to me. _

* * *

The six couples lined up on either side of Ben a few minutes later, the crowd murmured softly in anticipation as he began to announce the three top-rated couples that would be advancing to the second round and dancing the waltz to determine the final winner.

The first one, predictably enough, had Emmett bolting up from his seated position to let out a loud whistle as Drew Boyd and his partner were announced first; the subsequent shout of "You Go, Drewsy!" that Emmett uttered immediately afterward, however, took Brian a little by surprise with its tone of familiarity; that was the second time Emmett had called him that. The reaction of Boyd to Emmett's shout, however, was even MORE inexplicable as the man looked directly at Emmett and smiled warmly at him before giving him a wink. Brian's eyes widened in disbelief over the exchange, one that he filed away for later reference as the emcee announced the next couple to advance: the brassy blonde, Leda, and her partner, a tall, platinum-haired instructor by the name of Angela; their similarities in both build and looks had quickly made them a favorite of the audience during the initial round.

Brian felt Justin tightly squeezing his hand like two Miss America finalists as they waited for the last two names to be announced; when his name and Justin's names was finally called out as the third couple to advance, he couldn't help pulling Justin into a tight bear hug as the crowd loudly registered its approval of the judges' choice.

"We did it!" Brian shouted amidst the ebullience as he swung him around. "We fucking did it!"

Justin laughed in joy as Brian gave him one last squeeze and with a grunt released him, a big grin on his own face. As Ben instructed the three couples to go backstage and wait for their cue to be called back out for their second performances, Brian pulled Justin back behind the curtain by the hand as the other couples, including the two pairs of finalists, came up to congratulate them.

Debbie, standing several feet away, was trying hard to remain impartial, but couldn't help flashing Justin a brief 'thumbs up' as he looked her way and smiled in delight over their success.

As the other couples left to get ready, Justin turned to look back at Brian who was lightly shuffling back and forth on the balls of his feet. "I knew we would make it into the finals," he told him. "You've come such a long way since the first day. You were great out there."

Brian smiled as he took hold of Justin by the upper arms. "No, WE were great out there. And I never would have learned what I did if it hadn't been for you."

"We're going to do this, Brian," Justin whispered as his gaze wandered over to admire the shiny, mirrored trophy that depicted two figures dancing together; it was prominently displayed on top of a white, marble pedestal stand, just waiting to be awarded to the victorious couple. "We're going to win this; I can just feel it."

"Damn straight we are," Brian replied confidently as he smiled back at him. He inhaled a deep breath and let it out to release some of the tension he was feeling. "I've already cleaned off my desk at work and know right where to put the trophy."

Justin laughed. "How big IS your desk, Mr. Kinney? That trophy is huge."

"Big enough for that," Brian said as he crooked his head toward the trophy. "For four weeks of calloused feet, a bruised ass, and no sex? I'll MAKE room for it. After tonight, though, that's all going to change."

Justin flushed as a heat spread throughout his body; Brian wasn't the ONLY one who was looking forward to that last part; again, he worried faintly that once Brian finally had his desires quenched that it would mean he would be moving onto his next prey, but he quashed that thought. Surely by now he could tell that Brian didn't feel that cavalierly about him - did he? "Brian..."

"Yeah?"

_"All final contestants to the main stage; all final contestants to the main stage."_

Justin groaned. "Shit; never mind," he hastily decided as the two of them walked over to the edge of the stage behind the curtains to watch the activities, knowing they would be performing as the final couple this time. In a way it was an advantage, because they would be able to observe the other two couples to see how well they did and size up the competition a little more clearly. When it came to the judges, however, it was hard to tell what was going through their minds. The two men and lone woman were ideal at plastering neutral expressions on their faces, so it was next to impossible to know who had impressed them until all three couples were done; no words of criticism or review would be given in this competition unlike other ones, only the final awarding of the prize at the very end based on their combined scores from both performances.

They both watched silently as Drew and Kenny and then the female pair danced their version of the waltz. Neither spoke, not wanting to be disruptive or distracting, but both silently felt that their most serious competition would definitely lie with Boyd; he and Kenny had danced their waltz smoothly and elegantly.

Brian, however, secretly felt that were was something lacking that he and Justin had in abundance; when you looked at Drew and Kenny together, their pearly-white smiles were dazzling, their posture sublime, and their dancing was perfect. But they didn't have that spark; that special chemistry that made them sizzle. Something told him that when it came time for him and Justin to dance, there would be no problem with that. If the audience could feel even one tenth of what HE felt when they danced, then they were unstoppable.

At last the female couple finished their waltz and blew kisses to the audience in response to their applause before they scurried off the stage, and it was only the two of them left to compete. As their names were called out by Ben, Brian reached for Justin's hand. "Ready to show them how it's really done, Teacher?" he whispered softly as Justin smiled and nodded. Brian nodded back at him before the two of them confidently walked out onto the stage and took their positions facing each other, Brian's hand on Justin's waist and Justin's arm crooked over Brian's shoulder. Their other hands clasped out to the side of their bodies, they found the confidence they needed in each other's arms as they waited for their song to start - a soulful tune by Anita Baker called _Body and Soul_. Finally, it started to play on the overhead speakers and they began to sway together and then move to the music:

_What have you done to me?  
I can't eat, I cannot sleep  
And I'm not the same anymore, no no_

I don't know what to do  
'Cause all of me wants all of you  
Do I stand alone at the shore?

Now once I could turn away  
From everything I feel today  
But now I wanna walk through your door

And I've got to know, know, body and soul  
That you've got no doubt inside and out  
We are whole, whole, body and soul  
Don't leave me out in the cold  
Just love me body and soul, body and soul, soul

The music continued to play as they lost themselves in their own world, their bodies floating effortlessly around the room, their movements so graceful as if they were one. As they shuffled around the edge of the dance floor, the only regret Brian had about their slower dance was that by its very nature you weren't supposed to look your partner in the eyes; rather, you had to keep your chin up and pointed away from the other person. How he would love to look into Justin's eyes at that moment and share the magic with him, but holding him in his arms as he led him around the dance floor was glorious just the same, and he could tell by the hush that had come over the crowd that they felt the same way.

They were about to finish what the judges would have to deem a masterful performance when all of a sudden Brian felt Justin slipping in his grasp; a collective gasp rose from the crowd as Justin promptly fell out of Brian's embrace, stumbled slightly and crashed unceremoniously ass-first down onto the hard floor. The music continued unabated as Brian reached down to grab his hand for Justin to quickly rise from the floor; he tried to resume their dance, but as soon as he put weight on his left foot, a shooting pain flared up and his eyes filled with tears of regret and loss. "I...I can't," he finally told Brian in defeat as the music finally stopped and the room was filled with an eerie stillness. "My foot - I think I twisted it."

Brian's face transformed into a sorrowful one as he looked into Justin's eyes. "It's okay," he reassured him softly. "Everything's going to be all right."

Justin's eyes glistened with unshed tears as he swallowed hard; his experience had taught him never to appear defeated in front of the crowd or the judges, but tonight he was finding that philosophy hard to follow. He had counted on this so much - _too_ much perhaps - and now his dream of him and Brian winning had promptly been destroyed. There was no way he could finish the dance, and that was a requirement of winning. If a couple could not continue for any reason, they were automatically disqualified. "I'm sorry," he told Brian as his partner shook his head.

"What happened?" he asked as Ben came rushing over to check on him.

"I don't know," he answered helplessly as he allowed Brian to support him under his arm while he stood on one leg. "I think I slipped on something."

Walking closer to the couple, Ben reached down and picked up a small swatch of brown sequins that matched the ones that Leda's partner had been wearing on her costume. "I think this is what you slipped on," he told him as he held it out to him and the crowd began to murmur quietly.

"Fuck," Brian muttered as he recognized what it was. "That's not fair," he maintained. "They ought to be disqualified for letting that happen."

"Brian, it wasn't their fault that something came loose," Justin gently admonished him, his breathing harsh from the pain. "It happens; it's just one of those lousy things that occur sometimes." How he wished it hadn't been tonight, though! Thoughts of having to work for the next several years at Debbie's dance studio just to earn enough money to go to school swirled miserably through his head. He sighed. "Can you help me?" he asked Brian. "I don't think I can walk on my foot."

"You need to have that checked out," Ben told him, but Justin shook his head.

"No, I just think I need to give it a rest and elevate it," Justin said. "If it stiffens up and gets worse in the morning, I'll go to an urgent care clinic."

Ben nodded. "I'm really sorry, Justin; I think you and Brian had this in the bag."

Justin nodded; that just made him feel even worse, though. "Brian?"

Brian nodded back at him as Justin turned and slowly began to hop back toward the rear of the stage with his help. "Let me carry you," he offered, knowing it wouldn't be hard with how slender Justin was, but Justin shook his head firmly.

"No, please. Let me walk off on my own power; I don't want you to do that."

Brian nodded, understanding how Justin didn't want to appear weak in front of the crowd and admiring him for it all the more. "Okay," he whispered as the crowd began to applaud encouragingly. He acknowledged their best wishes with a brief nod and a smile as they finally reached the back of the stage and disappeared behind the curtains.

"Okay," Brian commanded as soon as they were out of sight; he promptly swept Justin up into his arms, cradling him by his thighs. "Enough of looking invulnerable."

"Brian..." was the weak protest, but truthfully Justin loved the feeling of Brian holding him this way as he linked his arms around his partner's neck for support.

"No arguments," Brian told him as he began to walk with him toward their dressing room. "You need to stay off that foot."

"Justin!" Debbie called out as she ran up to him, her eyes wide with sympathy. "Oh, my God! I just saw what happened! I'm so sorry, Sunshine! You were going to win this thing, I just know it!"

Justin smiled at her weakly. "Thanks, Deb. But it's not going to happen now." He sighed. "I know I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up too much, but I was really counting on it," he lamented.

Debbie nodded, knowing the reason why. _Poor kid_, she couldn't help thinking. He and Brian had been amazing out there; she knew the judges could see it, too. And she also knew he was right - they WOULD have won, hands down; she always had a good sense of who would win before the judges announced it, and she could feel it even more strongly tonight. She only wished that somehow she could have prevented what had happened, but it was too late now. "There'll be another time, Justin," she said in commiseration. "And you WILL get the money somehow to go to school, Honey," she told him as she reached over to briefly caress his cheek. "You're a good dancer, but your heart lies elsewhere."

Brian listened to their exchange attentively as Justin nodded sadly; he would have to have a talk with Debbie later about her tenant. For now, though, there were more pressing matters. "Come on, Teacher; you need to rest that foot."

Justin nodded as Debbie removed her hand. "I don't know if I'll be able to come in Monday," he told her regretfully.

Debbie's eyes flashed. "You'd better NOT!" she lectured him. "I'll see that you rest that foot if I have to sit on you to do it!" She looked intently over at Brian. "And YOU make sure that he stays off that foot, too, until I can take over!"

Brian snorted. "Yes, Sargent," he answered her dryly as she shook her head in irritation. "I'm going to take Justin back to your house," he told her. "I think he'd be more comfortable there than lying on that ratty old couch they have in the dressing room."

"Brian, I'll..."

"No arguments, I said!" he reminded Justin as he eyed him sharply. Justin sighed, but nodded in acquiescence.

She watched as Brian turned to leave. She was about to caution him not to take advantage of Justin in his situation, but decided not to say anything when she noticed how tenderly Brian was administering to him. "So fucking sweet," she said, tearing up suddenly as she watched Brian lean in to give Justin a soft kiss on the lips and smile fondly at him.

"He's right, Justin," she whispered softly. "You're going to be just fine. Brian will see to that," she murmured before she turned around to hurry back to the other contestants to await the final results.


	17. Tender Loving Care

"Ow, that's fucking cold!" Justin complained.

"Such a baby," Brian scolded him as he pressed the bag of ice to the side of Justin's bare foot and received a glare in return. "I've got a towel wrapped around it."

"I don't care - YOU try having all that ice pressed against your bare skin!"

Brian sighed; his 'patient' was being less than cooperative since they had returned to Debbie's house, despite the fact that he had gallantly carried him up the steps to his bedroom, prepared some tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich for him, and had found an extra pillow to prop his leg up with before finding a Ziploc bag to place ice in it to help the swelling go down. But he supposed he really couldn't blame Justin for his irascible temperament; he knew how disappointed he was that they had been forced to withdraw from the competition. "It was just one contest, Justin," he reminded him softly.

Justin turned his head away from Brian's gaze. "That's just it," he whispered. "It wasn't just another competition, Brian. It meant the difference between having just a job or being able to pursue my passion." He bit his lip to keep from crying; he would NOT do that in front of this strong man. "Now it's all gone. You know how long it will take me to have enough money saved up for my tuition?" He huffed out a breath of disbelief. "I'll be ready for Medicare by then."

Brian chuckled sympathetically as he reached to turn Justin's face toward his. "I doubt that, Sunshine." He gazed down into his instructor's face. "I know what a disappointment this is. But surely there are other contests with money involved as the prize." To his surprise, Justin shook his head.

"Not with amateur competitions," he told him as Brian lightly stroked his cheek with the back of his hand. "Only the professional ones pay out a prize purse if you win." He reached up to grasp Brian's hand in his and lay them against his chest as he whispered, "I'm sorry for being such an asshole. I know it wasn't your fault. At least after tonight you won't have to worry about me anymore, though."

Brian frowned as he squeezed Justin's hand. "What are you talking about? I'm not going anywhere."

"Oh, yeah, right," Justin retorted, allowed himself to wallow in self-pity over his misfortune. "I still owe you a fuck, don't I? Well, I'm sorry that I spoiled your plans for tonight."

Brian narrowed his brow in irritation. "Justin, what the hell? Do you think I'm just sticking around to have sex with you before I move on to somebody else? Is that it?"

"Well, aren't you?" In his personal pity-party world, Justin's insecurities were flaring to the surface. To his surprise, he noticed a vein popping out on Brian's neck as his face turned red with anger.

Brian dropped his hand from Justin's face. "That's exactly what I SHOULD do!" he roared, making Justin's heart pound over his fury. "Damn you, Justin! Has nothing we've been through this past month meant anything to you? Do you think this has all been an act just to get you into bed so we could fuck? Well, if I wanted to do that, trust me, I could have taken you any time I wanted to!"

Justin's eyes widened in confusion; he didn't know whether to rejoice over Brian's tirade or be concerned about it. "Brian, are you telling me...?"

Brian held his hand up to interrupt him. "Listen to me, Justin Taylor!" he growled. "Yes, I've wanted you since the first moment I laid eyes on you, and yes, I've thought of fucking you nonstop since our first lesson," he admitted. "But I have no intention of walking away after we do. That is, not unless you want me to. Why would I, when you're the best thing that's ever happened to me?" _Fuck, _he groaned inwardly, _why did I just admit that_? But the dazzling smile that appeared on Justin's face in reaction more than made up for his discomfiture as he glared back at him. "Are we clear on that, Teacher?"

Justin's eyes teared up. "Crystal," he whispered.

Brian nodded as he began to rise from the bed. "I'll go look for some Tylenol for you..." But Justin immediately latched onto his wrist and wouldn't let go.

"No, don't go."

"Justin, you need something for the pain."

"It's not that bad. Besides, I HAVE something for the pain," Justin whispered throatily as he stared into Brian's eyes. _"You. _I'm ready, Brian."

"For what?" Brian pressed, his breathing quickening. He wasn't stupid; he had seen that look in countless men's eyes before, but with Justin he had to be sure. This was not the way he had envisioned this happening - he had actually wanted to romance this beautiful man, to show him how special he was to him; not have their first time occur here in this juvenile-looking bedroom with the childish-looking cartoon figures for wallpaper and frilly, lace curtains on the windows. And not with Justin injured like this.

"Justin, I don't think..."

"Don't think," was the husky entreaty as Justin tugged on his arm until Brian gently lay down on top of him, spreading his legs further apart so his injured foot was out of the way; it also served to press their groins closer together as Brian bit back a groan over the amazing sensation. "Just kiss me, Brian. And make love to me."

"Are you sure?" Brian whispered, stroking Justin's face tenderly. "We don't have to do this tonight. I'll wait." And to his surprise, he meant that, too.

Justin smiled up at him before nodding. "I know you would. But no, I don't want to wait. I want this; I want _you_. Please, Brian."

Brian stared into his eyes before he finally nodded, his heart skipping a beat in anticipation. He had fantasized about this moment from the first second he had seen Justin; he had lusted after him deeply, but as he had gotten to know him better, it had evolved into something even more intense, more significant. More special.

Slowly, then, he helped Justin rise to a sitting position so he could unbutton and remove his shirt, his suit jacket having been hung up in the closet earlier. Dropping the white, satiny shirt down onto the floor nearby, Brian waited for Justin to lie back down and arch his hips so he could open his slacks and slowly pull them down along with the silk, black briefs that hid an impressively thick cock underneath. His eyes darkened with desire and his mouth salivated at the thought of tasting it as Justin blushed over the scrutiny. Brian lifted his eyes to gaze into his, not trying to disguise his hunger there, before he pulled off Justin's remaining shoe and sock, leaving him completely nude and bare before his eyes.

"Fuck, you are so beautiful," Brian murmured in appreciation as his hand swept down to lightly trail a path along Justin's sternum, down to his belly button, and then to play in the dark, golden curls lying just below. He resisted the urge to cup his fingers around Justin's thick cock for now, preferring to feel bare skin on bare skin as he rose up on his knees to shrug out of his tux jacket and then unbutton his shirt, noticing Justin's eyes openly admiring the smooth, bronzed skin of his chest as he let the now open shirt slide down his arms and flutter to the ground next to Justin's clothing.

Standing up from the bed now, he pulled his shoes and socks off before unzipping his dress pants and quickly tugging them and his briefs down his long legs to step out of them and stand, unfettered and confidently, in front of his lover.

Justin gasped at Brian's masculinity; his cock, proud and erect, stood at attention as he slowly raked his eyes down the length of Brian's magnificent body. "You...you are amazing," he breathed out as Brian bestowed his familiar smirk on him.

"I am," Brian said as Justin grinned up at him; his face turned more serious, however, as he sunk his knees into the end of the bed's mattress and began to crawl upward toward Justin's body, careful not to touch his injured foot.

Justin couldn't help gazing at the hard, purplish cock brushing against his stomach just before Brian draped himself over him and pressed his lips to Justin's to ravage his mouth; Justin's hands rose to stroke the strong, muscled skin of Brian's back as they kissed, beginning to feel dizzy from desire as Brian's hand stroked his upper arms back and forth in a languid motion. As they broke apart finally - mainly due to lack of air - he nuzzled the side of Justin's neck as he whispered, "Fuck, I want you so badly."

He pulled back to look into the darkened blue eyes as Justin nodded. "Me, too," he hissed out as he spread his legs further apart to accommodate Brian's larger frame. "Fuck me, Brian."

"No," was the surprising reply until Brian grasped Justin on either side of his head before he corrected him; he couldn't believe what he was about to say, but right here, right now, staring into Justin's eyes, it seemed like the only response he could make. "But I _will_ make love to you."

Justin smiled in delight as he nodded. He watched silently as Brian reached down to scoop up his suit jacket and fish in the inner breast pocket to find the lubricated condom he had concealed there. Justin arched one eyebrow in question as Brian dropped the suit jacket back down to the floor and explained, "You know how much I've wanted you. I was hoping this might come in handy eventually. This condom's done a lot of traveling lately," he grumbled as Justin laughed softly, causing Brian to smile down at him.

"Well, I'm glad it's going to finally be used tonight," Justin whispered as Brian handed it to him.

"Put it on me," he requested, his voice low and husky. This had also been one of his fantasies with Justin; there was just something so erotic about the thought of him placing the condom on him. He felt a slight ticklish sensation as Justin nodded and a few seconds later slid the latex over his abundant cock.

The two of them stared into each other's eyes before Brian reached down to grasp Justin's thighs to help him wrap his legs around his waist. He paused, however, as he suggested, "Maybe I should take you from behind," knowing with Justin's foot injury that it might be easier on him; both of them were so overcome with desire by now, though, that he knew there was no way they weren't going through with this. Silently, though, he was hoping Justin wouldn't agree; he wanted to see his face when they climaxed for the first time.

To his delight, Justin shook his head. "No," he whispered back. "I want to see you."

Brian nodded as he helped Justin place his legs around his waist; he noticed Justin wince as he linked them together. "Justin, we can wa.."

"NO," was the firm reply as Justin shook his head again. "No way. Do it, Brian," he urged throatily.

"But I haven't..."

"I don't care," was the instant response as Justin's fingers dug into Brian's biceps almost painfully. "It's lubricated. Do it. I want it. Take me; take me now, Brian. Please. Make me forget the pain."

Brian knew Justin wasn't referring to his foot now as he nodded, leaning down to kiss his lips once more before he took his free hand and, lining up his cock with Justin's hole, he pushed the tip in just slightly, hearing Justin hiss at the initial breach.

"It's okay," Justin replied at Brian's look of concern. "It's just been a while, that's all," he managed to explain as he gritted his teeth. Actually, he could count on one hand how many times he had been fucked; not that many hadn't tried, but most of the time he preferred to limit it to kissing and some blowjobs; there had been very few times when he had felt close enough to another man to let him fuck him, considering that to be the ultimate act of intimacy. Tonight, however, he couldn't get close enough to Brian.

Brian nodded in understanding, hating the idea of hurting Justin, but he also knew it was all part of it and that it would lessen as they continued. He waited until Justin nodded up at him before he pressed in a little further, again waiting until Justin had adjusted to the intrusion before going deeper.

"More," was Justin's plea, touched by how considerate Brian was trying to be. "Do it, Brian. Please," he whimpered now.

Brian nodded again, sweat starting to bead on his forehead from his attempts to control his movements as he pulled out, only to press back in harder. Again, he heard Justin blow out a labored, ragged breath as he snapped his hips this time to draw Brian in closer, making Brian gasp now at the tight heat deeply engulfing him. "Fuck, Justin," he marveled. "So tight; so incredibly tight."

"Feels good," Justin murmured in awe. "So damn good." He dug even deeper into Brian's flesh as he arched his back to pull Brian in even more. "Give it to me, Brian. Fuck me," was the demand as Justin's eyes shone with raw desire; the same feral emotion was reflected back in Brian's eyes as he withdrew temporarily, only to thrust forcefully back in, impaling himself all the way against Justin's body until they were flush against each other.

He groaned loudly at the incredible warmth that began to surround him, at the constricting possessiveness of Justin's body as his muscles clenched around him, at the soft moans of pleasure now escaping through Justin's parted lips as he began to rhythmically pump in and out of his lover.

The pleasure quickly building up inside Justin made him completely forget about his foot injury as they began a different sort of synchronized dance, one as old as time as their bodies moved in perfect choreography while Brian continued to make love to him, now hard and fast; just when he thought it couldn't get any more exhilarating, Brian roughly folded his body in half, bending his knees toward his chest as he stole kiss after kiss from his lips until he thought he would go crazy from the emotions pouring over him. Brian grunted each time he pounded into him, his sweat trickling to fall onto Justin's face as, with one last vocal cry of pleasure, Justin exploded, spewing his come between their bodies without Brian even touching his cock.

A few seconds later, fueled by his own desire as well as Justin's keens and moans of encouragement, Brian's body stiffened with impending climax just before he released his load into the condom and cried out at the almost indescribable pleasure, falling completely spent onto Justin's sticky, sweat-slicked frame in exhaustion, Justin's legs falling down onto the mattress and spreading apart to accommodate his larger body.

Brian lay there for several seconds, too overcome to move, feeling their twin hearts rapidly beating between them, before his dick softened and he reluctantly rolled off his lover to tie the condom and throw it onto the floor. He struggled to gain some much-needed breath before he finally turned his head to observe Justin staring back at him. He reached over to push some damp hair away from Justin's forehead as he whispered, "You okay? Your foot bothering you? Did I hurt you?"

He smiled as he received a dreamy, almost goofy-looking smile back in return. "What foot?" Justin murmured sleepily as Brian chuckled.

"Go to sleep, Teacher," Brian whispered as he turned on his side and drew Justin close against his chest.

"No," Justin softly protested as Brian arched an eyebrow and pulled back just enough to gaze down at him.

"Why not? I'll be here when you wake up," he assured him, wrapping his arms around him. He knew he should get up and find something to clean them up with, but he just couldn't move at the moment; he was enjoying holding Justin in his arms too much to do that.

Justin's eyes fluttered, struggling to stay open, as he clarified, "No, I mean tonight _you're_ the teacher. Did I get an A?" he asked drowsily as he started to fall asleep.

As Justin's eyes finally closed in slumber, Brian kissed him on the forehead as he whispered back, "A+."


	18. Second Chance

_The Next Morning_

Debbie glanced up unsurprised as a newly-showered Brian came ambling down the steps in response to the coffee aroma now permeating the entire downstairs, wearing his black tuxedo pants from last night and nothing else; she had already discovered her tenant curled up last night with his now _former_ pupil in Michael's old bed when she had arrived home last night and had cracked open the door to check on him.

She had considered demanding that Brian get the fuck out right then and there so Justin could rest, but as she gazed at the two of them cuddling together, and had seen the peaceful look on both their faces as Brian held Justin in his arms, she had found that she didn't have the heart to do that.

Apparently, however, she _had_ succeeded in luring her visitor downstairs with the promise of some morning java. "Coffee?" she asked as if it was the most natural thing in the world to see Brian Kinney joining her. Brian stood several feet away in the living room before Debbie pulled out a chair and placed the mug of coffee down on the table along with a creamer pitcher and a bowl of sugar. "Hurry up, it'll get cold," she admonished him as she walked over to the coffee pot on the counter to pour herself a cup.

Brian hesitated a couple more seconds before he walked over and silently sat down as Debbie soon joined him.

"How's Justin?" she asked nonchalantly as Brian poured an outrageous amount of sugar into his mug before taking a sip and setting it back down.

"He was still asleep when I went to take a shower," he reported as he curled his hands around the mug, knowing there was no need to try and explain why he was here so early in the morning, much less taking advantage of her shower.

She nodded. "He didn't appear to be feeling any pain last night," she observed dryly as Brian lifted his eyes to look over at her, curling his lips under.

"Well, I wouldn't go that far," he quipped. "But I think his foot's doing better now; it didn't seem as swollen this morning."

She nodded as she took a sip of her own coffee. "You realize I have a strict rule against Justin bringing home tricks to stay the night." She held up her hand as Brian opened his mouth to protest. "But I realize you aren't just some trick to him. And you feel the same way - don't you?" She arched one brow up analytically, meeting his gaze unflinchingly until Brian finally nodded.

"Yes," he found himself admitting to her. "Justin's...Very special."

Debbie smiled in satisfaction; yes, she had been right about them all along. "Yes, he is," she agreed simply. Her smile faded as she added, "It was a damn shame what happened last night; you and that kid would have won that thing if he hadn't slipped. Justin's always such a perfectionist with everything he does; I'm sure it killed him to mess up that way, even if it wasn't his fault. Not to mention that he needed that prize money to get into PIFA; that's been a dream of his for so long. And he's such a great artist; they're the ones losing out in my opinion," she growled. "Damn it."

Brian nodded thoughtfully. "I don't think I've ever seen any of his work," he told her.

"Oh, yes, you have," she replied as he looked over at her in surprise. "You remember all those paintings hanging on the walls heading into the practice rooms at the studio? All those dancers in various poses?"

Brian nodded as he recalled the meticulous detail of each work and how so much emotion and passion were expressed in each one. "Justin painted those?" he asked in amazement.

Debbie nodded proudly. "He sure did. And he didn't charge me a thing for them. He loves art so much, Brian; it's what he lives for. And to have that taken away from him when he was so close last night...It's a damn tragedy, I tell you." She paused for a few seconds. "Want to see some more of his work? He's also an incredible sketch artist, too."

Brian nodded as she pushed back from the table. "Wait here," she instructed as she walked over to the steps and climbed the stairs to the upper floor. A few minutes later, she returned with a well-loved sketchpad. "I got this out of Justin's top dresser drawer," she explained as she sat down next to Brian again. "He's still sound asleep; poor kid must have been worn out after last night." Brian smirked at her as she rolled her eyes, realizing now exactly why Justin was probably so exhausted. "He's such a heavy sleeper that he didn't even hear me come into the room. Take a look at these," he urged Brian as she pushed the sketchbook over toward him.

Brian opened up the cover and began to examine Justin's works. They were simply amazing in their detail and artistry; there were candid shots of people and animals, landscapes of several well-known landmarks that he immediately recognized, drawings of the downtown Pittsburgh skyline, even still-life sketches of clothing, fruit, and flowers. The last one was a startling likeness of the photo that Debbie had taken of them before their first date. They were all exquisite. "These are fantastic," he raved as he looked over at Debbie, who nodded in agreement. "I knew he wanted to be an artist and go to PIFA, but I had no idea..." He shook his head. "You're right. It would be a real shame if he didn't get in."

Debbie nodded. "I know. But how? He doesn't have nearly enough saved up for even the first year. I saw the application; it's fucking expensive as hell to go there."

"What application?" Brian asked.

"This one," Debbie told him as she reached over and pulled out a folded brochure that was tucked inside the sketchbook's back cover. "Look at this," she said, opening up the application and showing Brian the tuition costs for attending the art school. Brian whistled at the outrageous figure that rivaled attending a prestigious Ivy League school as Debbie advised, "And they're very particular about who they approve; not only do they have to be talented artists, but they also have to be smart. Justin qualifies on both counts; he got a 1,500 on his SATs in high school."

Brian's opinion of Justin rose even further at that revelation. He had known all along that Justin was intelligent, but he had no idea just HOW smart he was. "Holy shit," he murmured. "That's really high." He bit his lip in thought. "You know, my business does very well. I could..."

"No," Debbie immediately interrupted him as she raised her hand. "He would never agree to that, Brian; he's not only very creative and intelligent, but proud to a fault. I tried to convince him to stay with me for free so he could save up even more money for tuition, but he wouldn't hear of it. He would never agree to that, believe me."

Brian sighed; no, Justin probably wouldn't. _Damn it_. There had to be a way...His eyes lit up as a though occurred to him. "Debbie, would Justin miss this sketchbook if I borrowed it? And do you know if he has a copy of his SATs lying around somewhere?"

Debbie furrowed his brow. "I saw a copy somewhere," she told him as she thought about it. She smiled. "Yeah, he does! He has a bunch of his important papers in an old shoebox up in his closet."

Brian nodded, pleased. "What about this?" he asked as he nodded toward the sketchbook. "Any way I could keep this for a while?"

"Well, I don't know...He's pretty attached to that. Whenever he's upset he usually turns to drawing - he says it relaxes him and takes his mind off his problems. I imagine he's pretty shook up over what happened last night, so that may be the first thing he turns to today."

"Fuck." He thought for a moment. "Well, I'd like to make some copies of what he's sketched in here," he explained. "Surely there must be some way you could keep him occupied so he wouldn't have time to draw and notice that it's gone," he offered.

Debbie gnawed on one lacquered fingernail for a few seconds before she nodded. "I think it might just be time for a movie marathon today; he loves Gene Kelly movies. I'll talk him into watching them with me up in his room. Take the book with you; I'll carry some breakfast up to him in a little while along with the movies, and when you're done with it you can leave the book by the front door. I'll sneak it back upstairs into his drawer somehow."

Brian smiled. "I'm impressed with your deviousness."

She grinned. "Thanks - I think." She eyed him intently. "Just what are you up to, Brian Kinney?"

"Something good, I hope," he told her mysteriously. "Would you tell Justin I'll come by later and see how he's doing? I'll bring the book back with me then."

Debbie nodded. "Sure," she told him, still wondering what he was up to.

Brian nodded. "Great! Tell him I'll be back probably around lunch time, okay?"

Debbie nodded. "All right. But..."

"Just trust me," Brian assured her as he took a couple more gulps of his coffee, wiped his mouth with his napkin, and hurriedly pushed back from his chair. "I'll see you later," he called back as he hurried to leave, the sketchbook firmly in his grasp. A few seconds later, he quietly opened the front door and slipped outside.

"Good luck, Brian," Debbie murmured as she watched him go.


	19. Epilogue: I'm the Winner

_Three weeks later...Woody's_

"Fuck, Justin!" Brian groused as they walked up the steps heading into the bar, his arm wrapped around his boyfriend's shoulders. "Why did I let you talk me into eating all that shit?"

Justin grinned as he leaned up to give Brian a quick peck on the cheek. "Because you adore me, that's why," he answered impertinently as Brian rolled his eyes in reaction. They had just come from the Italian restaurant where Brian had taken him on their first date, Justin having reserved the same table for tonight. He had even arranged to have the same violinist there, playing the same tune as before. Not admitting to being superstitious, he had nonetheless insisted on him and Brian ordering the same dishes - Caesar salad for Brian and spaghetti and meatballs with fresh bread sticks with tiramisu and coffee afterward - to commemorate the anniversary of their first month together. Brian had even been pressed into dancing with him again; at least this time he was a little more fleet of foot, however.

They paused at the entrance to Woody's, the place humming with activity inside due to its grand reopening after being totally remodeled and expanded, as Brian curled his lips under and turned Justin around to face him. "Yeah, good thing for you I do," he gruffly admitted as Justin beamed at him. Oblivious to other patrons trying to enter and leave, they stood there for several seconds sucking face before Brian whispered, "Come on," and opened the door for them to enter, smiling to himself as he followed Justin inside.

Entering the bustling room, music was blaring as some patrons gyrated on the newly-installed, compact, hardwood dance floor, while others mingled among the small, round tables interspersed throughout the larger space. Still others, mostly men, congregated around the pool tables and dart boards, competing for rounds of drinks as the ultimate prize while they flirted with others.

Taking Justin's hand in his, Brian steered them over to a corner table, out of the way of most of the activity. They continued to hold hands as a waiter, clad in a tight, white tee shirt with the Woody's rhino logo and a pair of dark blue jeans, came over to take their drink orders.

"You realize I just ate my entire week's quota of carbs, don't you?" Brian scolded Justin as he idly played with Justin's hand. Since the dance contest, the two of them had been inseparable, going out on, yes, _dates_, several times a week and even including Gus at times in their activities. Gus had quickly bonded with Justin from the first moment that he had sat down with him at the local kid's pizza place and had helped him use crayons to draw a masterpiece on the disposable, white tablecloth the restaurant provided each table with. Since that first day, Gus had been enthralled with Justin's artistic talent and fun-loving attitude, and Brian had found himself falling in love even more deeply with Justin over the way he treated his son with such tenderness and affection.

"Well, I guess I'll just have to work it out of you, then," was the saucy reply as Brian grinned.

"That sounds like a very reasonable solution," Brian replied as they came together for another kiss. A loud, excited screaming and applause coming from the area of the pool tables caused them to break apart as they peered over to see what all the commotion was about. "What the...?" Brian muttered in astonishment as he recognized Emmett with his arm around Drew Boyd; the two of them were hanging all over each other like two old college frat buddies as they watched some other men shooting a game of pool. "Look over there!" Brian urged Justin as he followed his line of sight and his eyes widened in recognition.

"It's Drew Boyd!" Justin exclaimed in surprise. "Who's the other guy with him? They sure look chummy."

Brian snorted. "Yeah, they do - don't they?" he commented, his eyes narrowing in suspicion as he recalled the night of their benefit performance. "Why don't you invite our former competitor and his friend over for a drink?" Sure enough, the athlete and Kenny had wound up winning the competition and had taken home the prize money, along with the trophy. Justin, being the magnanimous person that he was, had remained disappointed that he hadn't been able to finish in the contest, but he had been genuinely happy for his co-worker, Kenny and for Boyd, harboring no ill feelings toward the victors.

Justin nodded as he slid off his bar stool and threaded his way over toward the other two men; Brian watched as the two of them smiled in response to Justin's greeting before they turned and followed him back over to his and Brian's table. Emmett's deliriously happy expression on his face changed considerably as he realized that Justin hadn't come into Woody's alone.

"Brian," he greeted his friend warily as Brian beamed back at him as if he were a long-lost friend.

"Well, if it isn't the talented Emmett Honeycutt," he responded as Justin frowned at his odd remark. "I had no idea you and Drew here knew each other so well."

Emmett fidgeted awkwardly next to Drew's side as Drew pulled up an additional, empty table next to Brian and Justin's and the two of them took a seat.

When Emmett didn't respond right away, Brian clapped Drew on the back and smiled at him. "So, where and when did you and Emmy Lou here meet?"

Drew laughed as he looked over at Emmett, noticing his face reddening in embarrassment. "Emmy Lou? That's a new one," he said with a smile. "Trust me, Emmett here is all man..." He winked at his lover to emphasize his point.

"Drew..." Emmett tried to intervene as he grasped his sleeve, but it was too late.

"We met about six months ago," Drew revealed with a smile. "Ironically, he was supposed to cater my wedding; before I came to my senses, that is." He gazed over at Emmett affectionately. "He's the best thing that ever happened to me," he divulged as he placed his hand on Emmett's shoulder. "He's an open book; that's one of the things I really love about him."

Emmett covered his head with his hands as Brian rolled his tongue around in his mouth. "Really?" he replied as he looked over at Drew in mock fascination. "Tell me more. How long have you been a couple?"

"Drew, please..." Emmett mumbled as he risked a peek through his fingers, seeing his life flashing before his eyes.

Drew frowned at his boyfriend's reaction, but nonetheless told Brian, "About four months. He was the one who encouraged me to come out of the closet and compete in the dance competition," he told Brian proudly as Emmett groaned. "It turned out to be a great idea! I've gotten all kinds of marketing offers out of it."

"Is that so?" Brian asked as Drew nodded. "Four months, did you say?" Drew nodded again to confirm it as Brian arched an eyebrow and stared over at Emmett as he reached over and removed Emmett's hands from his face. "That was a long time before our bet, wasn't it, Honeycutt?"

Justin's eyes grew wide as he realized what was going on. _Uh, Oh._ "Brian..." he began, but he was totally ignored.

"You knew all along that Drew here was gay, didn't you?" Brian growled. "You deliberately baited me into entering that competition, knowing that I was going to lose that bet. Do you have a death wish, Honeycutt?"

Emmett laughed nervously. "It was just a joke, Brian; don't you have a sense of humor?" All of a sudden, Ted's previous words of warning were coming back to haunt him. Why had he thought that it was such a good idea in the first place? "There was no harm done..." he added as Brian promptly clamped a hand around his wrist. "And actually, you cut quite a rug out there," he grudgingly admitted, hoping to get back into Brian's good graces. But Brian wasn't mollified by it.

"But you thought I would make a fool out of myself out there, didn't you? _Didn't you_?" he demanded angrily.

"Kinney, that's enough," Drew warned him quietly, starting to become alarmed by the harsh tone of Brian's voice. "I'm sure Emmett didn't mean any harm."

"Brian, he's right," Justin agreed reasonably at his side. "Let's just forget it, okay? It's over with."

Emmett licked his lips nervously as Brian continued to hold his wrist in a vice until suddenly he let go of him unexpectedly, causing Emmett to tumble backward a little; only Drew's quick reflexes prevented his lover from toppling off his stool. Emmett sighed in relief as he looked over at Brian in shocked surprise that he had given up so easily.

"Good thing for you, Honeycutt, that I actually came out the winner in our bet," he told the other man in explanation as he turned to stare over at his lover. "Because I wound up with Justin."

Justin flushed at the compliment as Emmett's eyes welled up with tears.

Brian gave him a pained expression. "What the hell is wrong with you? I've decided to let you live after all."

Emmett sniffled as he gushed, "That was the most romantic thing I've ever heard."

Drew smiled as he grabbed Emmett's hand, knowing now was a good time to make their escape. "Come on, Em; let's go shoot some pool." Drew nodded over at Brian and Justin as Emmett hurried to follow his boyfriend, more than happy to escape before Brian changed his mind about their bet.

Brian averted his eyes away from Justin in embarrassment until he felt Justin's hand grasping his chin and forcing him to turn his gaze back to him. He rolled his eyes as Justin looked at him goofily. "Don't read too much into that," he warned him as Justin's smile broadened. He snorted, knowing there was no way to back out of it now. What's done was done, and Justin had the ears of an owl. The little twat was eating it up, too.

"You may have won the bet, Mr. Kinney," Justin whispered. "But I feel like I just won the fucking lottery." Brian sighed in resignation. It wasn't easy being in love with a romantic sap; it was so against his nature. But he couldn't help it; he couldn't imagine life without Justin now, so he would just have to live it. He almost hated to bring up the other matter now; if Justin had this reaction to what he just said, he could just imagine his response to what was coming next.

He reached inside his leather jacket pocket to pull out a white business envelope, its flap tucked inside. "This came in the mail for you today," he told Justin as he slipped it into his hand. "Debbie asked me to give it to you."

Justin frowned. "When did you see Debbie today?"

"Just open it, Justin." He curled his lips under slyly as he watched his lover peer at the return address.

Justin gasped. "What IS this? It's from PIFA. Why would they be writing ME?"

"Justin," Brian huffed in exasperation. "Will you please just open the fucking thing?"

"Okay," he responded a little brusquely, a little piqued at Brian's behavior. With slightly shaky hands, he slipped the flap out of its location and, placing the envelope down onto the table, unfolded the ivory-colored piece of paper, noticing it was written on official PIFA letterhead. Brian watched Justin's hands trembling as he began to read what the letter said; he could tell the moment that Justin realized what the contents meant as soon as his mouth fell open and his eyes grew large and luminous. "I don't believe it," he whispered in stunned disbelief as he slowly lifted his gaze to peer over at Brian. "Brian, do you know what this is? They're offering me a full scholarship to go to art school! Tuition, books, everything! Even board if I want to live on campus!" He glanced back down at the letter, rereading it to make sure he hadn't misunderstood as he shook his head. "I...I don't believe it," he repeated in amazement.

He clutched the letter tightly to his chest as if it were the most precious diamond in the world. "I...How did they know? Why would they do this? I hadn't even applied there yet, because I couldn't afford it!" He shook his head again, wanting desperately to believe it wasn't all some cruel hoax, but unable to understand how it could be possible. "I don't understand."

Brian smiled over at him tenderly, touched by Justin's response. He could tell how much this meant to him, and he couldn't be any prouder of him than he was at that moment. "That's wonderful, Sunshine," he told him as he reached over to lightly cup his cheek. "That solves all your problems; now you can go to school and not have to worry about where all the money's going to come from. I'm so proud of you. You're an amazing artist; they're the lucky ones."

Justin smiled over at him before he realized something. "Brian, how do you know I'm an amazing artist? I haven't shown you any of my paintings or sketches yet." It wasn't that he hadn't meant to; they were still in the 'get-to-know' stage, and frankly, between continuing to teach dance lessons and going out with Brian so much lately he hadn't had much of a chance to draw, much less show him any of his work, although he had been intending to.

Brian shrugged. "Debbie must have shown me some of your work," he reasoned, grasping at straws for a reasonable explanation.

"That still wouldn't explain how the art school got a hold of copies of my works, or a transcript of my SAT scores. And I didn't apply to go there; you have to do all of that before they'll even consider you for enrollment, much less a scholarship." He narrowed his eyes to stare over at his boyfriend suspiciously, just as Brian averted his eyes downward like a rabbit caught in a trap.

Justin stared over at him incredulously, his mouth open in astonishment. "You?" he whispered in awe. "You did all this for me?" When Brian remained quiet, he spoke up more forcefully. "Brian, answer me. Were you responsible for this?"

Brian sighed; he never could lie well around his lover. "No, I didn't do it," he told him sincerely. "YOU did. It was YOUR talent and hard work that got the scholarship. I merely facilitated it - along with some help from Debbie."

Justin shook his head in amazement, his heart overflowing with love for this wonderful, thoughtful, generous man. "I can't believe you did this, Brian. Do you know what this means to me? I've dreamed of this for so long."

Brian smiled as his reached over to play with Justin's hand. "I'm happy for you, Justin. And they're fucking lucky to have you. I guess it just shows how smart they really are."

Justin's throat swelled up as he was overcome with emotion; all the noise, clattering, voices, music, and everything else faded into the background as he told Brian, "I'll never forget what you did for me, Brian. Never. If I can ever do anything for you..."

"Well, there IS one thing..." Brian told him with a grin.

Justin rolled his eyes. "You already get that - every night," he told him.

"And you'd better make SURE I keep getting it," Brian teased him before his expression transformed into something more intense. "No, what I mean is, don't take them up on their offer for free room and board."

Justin frowned. "But Debbie can put another tenant in her house now; she's always given me a reduced rent in exchange for my teaching. Now she can collect a higher amount with me gone."

"No, Justin. I mean go ahead and move out of Debbie's house - and move in with _me." _

Justin's face lit up with wonder. "You...you want me to live with you?"

Brian shrugged, trying to make it seem less important than it actually was; truthfully, though, he had NEVER, EVER entertained the idea of anyone moving in with him, at least not until Justin had entered his life and promptly turned it upside down. "Well, you're over there practically every night worshipping my cock anyway," he teased as Justin harrumphed. "So why not make it easier on both of us?" He reached over to feather Justin's hair at the back of his neck as he gazed tenderly into his eyes. "You can go to school during the day while I'm at work, and we'll fuck each other's brains out every night before we go to bed and every morning in the shower."

He paused. "Yes," he finally confessed in answer to Justin's question, all pretenses gone now. "I want to go to sleep with you every night and wake up with you every morning. And I may just want to be your dance partner for the rest of your life. What do you say?"

Justin sniffled, his eyes glistening. "Yes," he whispered in joy. "I want that, too."

Brian nodded. "Good." He stood up and stretched his hand down toward Justin as a slow tune began to play on the old-fashioned jukebox located nearby. "Well, then, Mr. Taylor. I believe this is our dance."

* * *

Chapter End Notes:

_Thank you for reading! I do hope you enjoyed it.:) And thank you to everyone who commented; that is very encouraging to me._


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